


After years of stormy sailing have I finally found the bay

by scarletseeker113, Scribe34



Series: There were days when each hour was a war I fought to survive [2]
Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: All The Ships, Can be read as a stand alone., F/M, In which Darcy is tumblr, Kidnapping, Snark, Stony if you look for it, and Clint reads fanfiction, awesome references, greenland, lots of snark, you should just read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-11-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:52:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletseeker113/pseuds/scarletseeker113, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe34/pseuds/Scribe34
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh my God,” Darcy says. “the Hulk will tear you apart. He’s a little fond of me,” she confides. “You remember him, don’t you? The guy who tossed you around like a rag doll?”<br/>“He will not find us here.”<br/>“Do you really think our team is going to give up?” Tony asks. “Because they won’t. They will find us, and then you’ll be right back in prison.”<br/>“Natasha will come,” Clint says, confident in his knowledge.<br/>“And then there’s Steve,” Darcy offers.<br/>“Who won’t stop trying to find his team until the stars go out,” Tony agrees with a smile. “And then your brother, the demi-god.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Avengers Tower

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this series comes from Owl City's new song, Embers.  
> The title of this work specifically comes from Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog, in So They Say.
> 
> Disclaimer: Obviously I do not own these characters.
> 
> Also, my co-author/person I run everything by before I write it is: prideandfandoms on tumblr (scribe34). She also happens to be my roommate. I'm straightenshisbowtie on tumblr, if for some reason you are interested. :)

“Mr. Stark, I’m afraid you can’t go in.” Fury’s secretary- what’s her name, Clarissa?- stands up, blocking his pathway into her boss’s office.

Stark takes a moment to leer at her, but really, he has more important things to do. “That’s cute,” he says, returning his attention to his tablet, “This is urgent.”

Darcy bounces up behind him, “You’re not going to stop him,” she warns.

Tony brushes his way past Clarissa, pushing open Fury’s door like he owns the place.

Behind him he can hear Darcy- “What kind of music do you like?”

“I’ve got some ideas on the Helicarrier, but we’re going to need more funds, I’m thinking five billion, that shouldn’t be a problem, will it?” 

Tony looks up at Fury, wearing his most aggravating smile. When he processes the sight in front of him his brain freezes for a moment, which isn’t something that happens often- genius, it comes in the job description. 

“Son of a bitch,” he says, and that’s his reaction.

“Stark,” Fury sighs, and starts to go on.

Tony holds up a finger. “Hold that thought. I have to make a call.” He raises the phone to his ear and it rings a couple of times.

“How does this thing even work?” he hears distant worried voice ask.

“Cap!” he says loudly.

“Tony?”

“I need you to assemble the Avengers, Fury’s office, we’ve got a situation.”

“What kind of a situation?” Steve asks suspiciously, probably because of that one time when Tony called them all to assemble because his favorite pizza place wasn’t delivering. And that was a serious situation, no matter what anyone else thought about it.

“A serious one!” he snaps, trying to use an army voice on him. It sorta works. 

“I’m on my way,” Steve says, “but if this isn’t serious Tony I’m going to stop taking your calls.”

Tony turns back to look at the two other men in the office. “It’s serious.”

 *   *   *

Steve bursts into the office with his shield on his back. Tony turns around from where’s he’s sitting, “Ah, Steve, come in and meet our resident Sherlock Holmes, who returned from the dead after _no one saw his body._ ”

“Coulson?” Steve asks, and the look of incredibility on his face is actually quite adorable, he looks like a two year old.

“Really it was our mistake,” Tony continues, “We should always make sure we _see the body._ Mental note for the future.”

“Will you sign this?” Coulson asks, handing Steve his Captain America trading card. “I tried to clean most of the blood off of it, but some things can’t be erased,” he glares at Fury, who smiles indifferently back.

“Sure,” Steve says absent-mindedly, signing a scrawl across the card. “But how-”

“I was just in critical condition, Loki didn’t actually hit my heart.” Coulson smiles at him serenely and Tony has an inexplicable urge to punch the smirk right off of his face.

“You do realize that we thought you were dead right?” Tony says, “Like, dead. Six feet under, we have to wear black for six months, the whole shebang.”

“You’re not wearing black,” Coulson says.

“Well, I did a remarkable job of getting over your death.” Tony says waving his hand, “It took me three bottles of scotch, and then-” he snaps his fingers.

Bruce comes through the door next, looking from Coulson to Fury to Tony to Steve and then back to Coulson. 

“Right,” he says, and then he turns around and shuts the door behind him again.

Tony can vaguely hear Darcy say, “Bruce, are you alright?” outside the door.

He makes a mental note to give his PA a raise, for sheer balls-y-ness. She was confronting the _Hulk_ when he looked upset. Definite raise.

“I would just like to make it clear that I am not the person who made the dick move this time, that would be Fury.” Tony grins.

Steve rolls his eyes.

“I just want that on the record.”

“Yeah, you’re a saint, Tony,” Fury says in a flat voice.

The door opens again. “Son of Coul! You have escaped the grasp of death!” Thor lifts Coulson off the ground in a hug. 

Tony winces, imagining the cracked ribs.

“Thor, put him down, I think you’re hurting him,” Steve says, and Thor drops Coulson immediately, with a worried expression written across his face.

“We thought you had perished in battle!” he says, his voice booming around the room.

“Yeah,” Coulson sounds a little out of breath, and Tony smiles smugly. Serves him right. “I was in critical condition, Fury lied so that you’d have something to fight for.”

Thor frowns at Fury. “Why would you willfully deceive us?”

Fury opens his mouth in order to answer, but the door opens again, cutting off whatever he was going to say.

Clint stands in the doorway, staring at Coulson. Natasha is just behind him, her face void of emotion.

Clint steps into the room, walking straight over to Phil and pulling back his arm. His punch sends Phil a couple steps backwards.

He turns on his heel and exits the room again. 

Tension fills the room as Natasha steps into the middle of the vacant space, facing Fury head on. Her muscles are pulled tightly, Tony can see the tension in her neck.

“If you ever pull a move like this again you won’t live to see the next day.” Her voice is soft, and Tony finds himself wondering how many men she’s been able to seduce with that voice, and how many had come to fear for their life by the same tone.

“Yes ma’am,” Fury says, and he almost sounds amused. 

She nods to Coulson once and then turns and exits the room.

“Well, that went better than I expected,” Coulson says.

“I was kind of hoping they’d kill you,” Tony admits.

Steve frowns at him.

“What?”

*   *   *

Tony walks into the SHEILD workout room to see Natasha taking Clint apart. He’s on the floor, his hands wrenched up over his head in a twist that just looks painful.

He lifts his hips up, locking his feet around her neck and pulls her to the ground, they roll over for a couple minutes, each trying to get the advantage until finally Natasha is crouched on top of his back, his arms pinned down.

“Gotcha,” she says and stands up.

Tony clamps down on any thoughts about how sexy that was, because Natasha would just _know,_ just _know,_ that he was thinking that, and so would Pepper for that matter. 

“Stop thinking that, Tony,” Natasha calls from across the room.

“Stop thinking what?” he asks. 

She turns a level gaze on him.

“Ready to train?” Steve asks from behind him.

“Yes,” Tony claps his hands together and moves onto the mat. 

Bruce walks into the room behind Steve, walking over to ask Natasha a question about some sort of poison she uses, and Tony doesn’t even want to _touch_ that conversation.

“How come you guys are always here? Don’t you have somewhere to go? It’s like you live here,” Tony says, pulling on boxing gloves.

“We do live here Tony,” Steve says with an amused smile on his face.

“What, in SHEILD headquarters?” Tony hopes he has an appropriately horrified expression on his face, because really, that was wrong. That was wrong on so many levels. “How big are your rooms? The size of a closet?”

“They’re bigger than that,” Steve says reasonably.

Tony looks over a Clint.

“They’re smaller than a closet,” Clint says. “And they only have twin beds. Standard issue.”

Tony’s eyes flicker to Natasha, thinking about the exact reason that Clint brought that up.

“Stark, what did I tell you?” Natasha asked, spinning on a heel, with her hand on her hip.

He looks away hurriedly.

 *   *   *

Tony turns around in his workshop, “Pepper!” he yells, and stops abruptly when there’s a woman standing right in front of him. “You are not Pepper,” he says,squinting suspiciously at her.

“No,” Darcy says, not moving an inch. “But Pepper says you’d better go to bed or she’s going to remove all the coffee makers from the building and bribe all of the nearby coffee shops to not sell anything to you.”

“She wouldn’t.” Tony says. 

That’s a low blow, that’s low even for Pepper. That’s worse than letting Loki out of prison, that’s worse than robotic squirrels taking over Manhattan, that’s worse than Natasha deciding to kill him slowly just to watch him squirm.

“You’re being a little melodramatic,” Darcy says, squinting at him.

He said all that out loud, right.

“Well, I’ve only been down here a couple hours,” Tony whines. “I’m good for a couple more.”

“Tony, you came down here on Wednesday at nine at night.”

“So?” Tony asks, picking up a wrench again and walking over to a piece of the armor that he’s been working on.

“It’s Friday,” Darcy says.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tony says, waving the wrench and making Darcy dodge. Whoops. 

She grabs the wrench out of her hand and wields it like a blunt instrument in his direction. “Bed!” she snarls. “Now!” 

“Yes ma’am,” Tony says, “just let me finish what I’m working on.”

“No,” Darcy says. She points to the door.

“Lewis, if you wanted to get me into bed, you could have just asked,” Tony says, because he hasn’t made an innuendo in days. But Darcy doesn’t even blush, right, mental note, innuendoes wasted on her.

“I heard that,” Pepper says from the stairs.

“Pepper!” Tony says, bounding forward holding his hands out.

She steps away with a somewhat nauseated look on her face, and he remembers he’s wearing a wife beater that’s less cloth than grease and oil, and he drops his hands to his sides.

“Shower,” she commands him.

He raises his first to fingers to his forehead in a salute. “What’s with all the orders today?” he asks, glancing back at Darcy. “Not that I mind,” he adds hurriedly. 

 *   *   *

Tony steps out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Pepper is already in bed, the comforter pulled up to the middle of her stomach and a book in her hand. 

Tony pulls on sweat pants and then climbs into bed with her.

“So I’ve been thinking,” he says. 

Pepper closes her book. 

“You want to invited the Avengers to all live here in the guest quarters.”

Right, Tony thinks, Pepper knows everything.

_Everything._

“Um. Yes. Well, that is the general idea, that is if you’re okay with it.”

“Tony, if I wasn’t okay with it I would have stopped the order to have an archery range installed in the workout room.”

Tony smiles at her, sliding his hand across her stomach and leaning in to kiss her neck. She puts her book on the nightstand and turns off the light.

 *   *   *

Steve has nightmares. He hasn’t told anyone, but they’re still there. Bucky falling, Peggy getting shot, aliens converging on New York, losing a member of his team. They’re different every night.

He walks into the training room and pulls some gloves on.

He flips the lights on and finds Tony Stark sitting on the edge of the boxing ring, leaning against the perimeter cords and staring intently at the tablet in his hands.

“Tony, it’s four in the morning, why are you here?”

“Why are you?” Tony asks, and there isn’t much Steve can say to that.

Steve’s just hung up a punching bag when Tony puts his tablet down and focuses his gaze on him.

“How are you, Cap?” he asks.

Steve lets his hands hang at his sides and considers the question.

“I’m fine, Tony,” he says.

“No,” Tony says, “I mean, _how are you?_ ”

“What’s the difference?” Steve asks, because he’s tired. He’s just tired.

“It’s not the kind of question that can be answered by _fine._ Everyone knows that _fine_ is code for: Bad, Shittiest Day Ever, Leave Me Alone, etc.” 

Steve stares at him. 

Tony is confusing, the most confusing person that Steve has met in this century. At the same time, he’s remarkably simple. You ask, he’ll tell. Or lie, but Steve can always tell when he’s lying. But sometimes Steve just has no idea what he’s saying.

“Okay, let’s start simpler,” Tony says. “How are you adjusting to the time period?”

“It’s ...” Steve hesitated. “Loud.”

He thinks of all of the ads and the television channels and the radio and the phones and the internet and the computers and he thinks that _loud_ is the right way to describe this century.

“Do you..” Tony flaps his hands around. “Like it? Are you happy?”

“It’s okay, not bad.” Steve admits. He’s being generous. He feels out of place. “I feel best when I’m working with the team.”

Tony beams. 

“Well, I have a plan for that,” he says. 

“Oh?”

“You’re all going to move in with me, I’ve got enough room in the tower.”

Steve finds the thought amusing, waking up to have coffee with Natasha, having movie nights. Acting like a family.

“Okay,” he says.

“Great!” Tony claps his hands together and jumps off the edge of the boxing ring. “I thought you’d be harder to convince, honestly.”

“Why’s that?”

Tony shrugs, “Don’t know, just did.” He starts to walk away. He pauses near the door. “You never answered my other question.”

“Which one?” Steve asks, even though he’s perfectly aware of what question Tony’s referring to. They both are.

“Are you happy here?” Tony seems slightly uncomfortable bringing the question up.

Steve looks down, adjusting his gloves. “Well, happiness is a delicate equation.”

Tony looks up, surprised. “That’s deep, Cap. We should embroider that on a pillow or something.”

He turns to start to walk away.

“Tony?” Steve asks.

“What?”

“My name is Steve.”

Tony nods once, and then walks out the door.

*  *  *

When Tony tells Clint, the archer slams into him, wrapping his arms around his middle and not letting go. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he says.

“Clint, you’re going to break him,” Natasha says, pulling him off of Tony.

Tony takes in a deep breath.

God, that man has some muscle.

“But, Tash,” Clint says, hanging off of her arm. Tony’s never heard anyone call her a nickname and get away without a broken appendage, but a soft smile comes over her face when he says it like that. “We get to live in a tower, for real. Not for a mission. And we don’t have to deal with twin beds anymore!”

Clint is jumping up and down, and Natasha is laughing at him. 

When she’s not playing a role Tony finds that he likes her quite a lot.

“What about you Bruce?” Tony asks, turning to the other man in the room.

Bruce shifts a little bit. “I like having access to the labs here,” he says slowly.

Tony presses a hand against his arc reactor.

“I think you’ve damaged his honor or something,” Clint says. 

“Do you doubt by labs, Banner?” Stark asks. “I’m hurt, my labs are the best in the world.”

“When he can keep them clean,” Darcy mutters from behind him.

Tony turns to her, frowning, “That’s your job.”

“I’m your PA, not your janitor.”

“Well, you’re supposed to hire the janitors then,” Tony says.

“Do I have that much control over the money?” Darcy looks interested in this idea, and Tony suddenly finds a cold feeling of dread settle into his stomach. He’s going to find his iTunes filled with bands that he’s never even heard of.

“Absolutely not,” he says.

“Liar,” Darcy says, looking pleased with herself.

Tony frowns. 

“Are you involved in this frat party?” Bruce asks Darcy.

Darcy looks surprised that he asked. “Not that I know of,” she answered. “Although if Mr. Stark would like to include me in this so that I can live in a skyscraper and not have to commute thirty minutes to work and eat his food for free, I would not be opposed.”

“Fine, you can come too,” Tony says.

Darcy squeals. 

“Fine, I’ll come,” Bruce sighs.

Tony looks back and forth between the two of them, wondering if he was just manipulated. 

“What?” Darcy asks innocently.

“Nothing,” Tony mutters.

*  *  *

Tony’s asked everyone now, well, everyone but Thor, but he’s in Asgard for a couple of days, and he asked Jane to stay with him, so if she’s there Thor won’t be far behind when he comes back.

They’ve all moved in. Clint finds the showers to be amusing, he keeps ordering expensive soaps and shampoos just to see the look on Steve’s face when he passes by and catches a whiff.

It’s already become standard to meet in the communal kitchen for coffee in the mornings, something that helps Tony keep track of when it is morning. Sometimes Darcy makes them all breakfast. And really, she should open up a diner with the way she can cook. It makes Tony groan when he bites into her pancakes.

Steve likes to cook as well, and his specialty is French Toast that makes Pepper jump up and down with excitement. Not much can make Pepper jump.

Natasha makes breakfast once, a Russian food that no one understands but eats happily anyway. They all love it, but she never makes it again.

Clint, of course, never touches the kitchen, same as Tony. Their specialty is coffee, and they’re good at it.

Fury shows up in Tony’s workroom a day after the _incident._ And honestly that was completely _not his fault._ Clint was just being Clint. 

_It was not Tony’s fault that Darcy got tossed off the of the top of a sky scraper._

And she was fine, anyway, Bruce had hulked out and saved her, the same way he had saved Tony. It all turned out just fine.

“Given recent events, I think it’s prudent to have an agent on premises.”

“There already is an agent on premises,” Tony points out. “Three, and a consultant.”

“It would be prudent to have an agent that does not have the mental responsibility of a nine year old on the premises,” Fury amends his statement.

“You would be in a considerable amount of pain if Natasha ever heard you say that, and Steve would give you his puppy eyes. You know what his puppy eyes are like, Director.”

Fury rubs his fingers across his forehead. “I need someone I can trust.”

“Not Coulson,” Tony says automatically.

“It’s going to be Coulson,” Fury says.

“He hurt my feelings,” Tony says with a pout.

“Well then get over it, he’s moving in.” Fury says in a tone that brooks no argument.

So Coulson moves in.

The first morning he shows up in the kitchen it goes quiet for just a moment.

Darcy, who is standing in front of the stove, with an apron on and a spatula in one hand, is staring daggers at him, Natasha is smiling at her plate. Tony shifts uncomfortably.

“Welcome to breakfast, Phil,” Pepper says with a smile.

“Thank you,” Coulson says, and walks over to Darcy.

He hands her a metal object, “A new taser,” he says. “To replace your iPod.”

Darcy stares at it before slipping it into her pocket and then throwing her arms around his neck.

The tension eases out of the room instantly. 

“Please, don’t taser my boyfriend again,” Jane says from the counter.

“No promises,” Darcy says, with a grin, loading a plate for Phil. She pats Bruce’s hand in the process so that he stops looking like a wounded puppy and life keeps going as normal.

Or, as normal as it possibly can with so many people living in one place.

 

 


	2. A Soft Kind of Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Moly people, we've already got six hundred hits, thanks!

Bruce bends over the table, studying his data intently. 

“Interesting,” he mutters.

“Are you even listening to me?” Darcy demands. She places her hands on her hips and glares at him.

“What? Oh, yes, of course,” he smiles at her, because that always seems to make her less angry.

It works, she deflates slightly, and hops up onto the lab table, swinging her legs over the edge.

“So anyway, as I was saying,” Darcy continues, “It’s not that I dislike Coulson or anything, but, Bruce, _he took my iPod._ That level of thievery requires time to get over. It’s not like I can look at him and just forget that he _took my iPod._ ”

“I’m sorry?” Bruce says, completely unsure of what to say. He’s staring at the way her hair is curled softly, framing her face. It’s slightly distracting.

She beams at him, laughing to herself.

He can’t imagine what is funny. 

“When was the last time you ate, doc?” She asks, leaning forward, balancing on her hand.

Bruce blinks quickly, “Uh..” 

“If you can’t remember then it was too long ago,” she hops off of the table and takes his hand, dragging him out the door and into the elevator. 

He takes his hand back somewhere in the hallway, feeling self-conscious about touching people.

Darcy doesn’t looked disturbed in the least, just keeps bouncing along.

“Did I tell you about the complete disaster on Friday night?” she asks.

“What happened on Friday night?” he asks. 

Her brown hair in bouncing on her shoulders as she walks. “I had a date with that reporter.”

“Oh.”

She takes his hand again, which he just notices is shaking. Definitely not good in a small contained elevator.

“Turns out he just asked me on a date to get information about the Avengers,” Darcy scoffs. 

“You do realize that this isn’t helping me contain the Other Guy?” Bruce asks.

“Which part?” Darcy says quickly, “the part where I have a date or the part where he wanted info about our team?”

“Both?”

Her smile grows bigger, almost predatory. “I knew it,” she says quietly.

The elevator door dings and they step out onto the communal floor. 

“How’d you get out of the date then?” Bruce asks.

Darcy grins, “I tasered his ass.”

Coulson looks up from the book he’s reading on the couch. “If you tasered someone that means I have paperwork to fill out, Darcy.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says breezily, prancing into the kitchen. “But he totally deserved it.”

Coulson sighs. “Do I want to know?” he asks Bruce.

“No.” Bruce smiles at him and then turns to follow Darcy.

“Sit down, I’ll cook something.” She says, pointing at the stools next to the counter.

“I want to help,” Bruce protests. 

It takes two seconds of cajoling before she’s giving him orders. She barks at him like a general, and Steve laughs, saying that he could learn some things about leadership from her.

They end with everyone gathered around the table and sitting at the counter, waiting for a taste. 

Darcy just rolls her eyes as Clint moans again, “How long is this going to take, I’m starving over here Darcy, starving.”

Natasha worms her foot between Clint’s back and his chair, making herself comfortable. 

Tony is working on something on his tablet, but Pepper is distracting him. 

Darcy whirls past Bruce to get to the stove and her arm brushes against his. He wonders if it’s just because he hasn’t touched someone in such a long time that makes the hair on his arms stand up.

She grinning at him, and he realizes he’s stopped in the middle of the kitchen. He blinks and continues on.

 *   *   *

Sometimes Steve finds the tower stifling. He loves the team, and he loves living with them, but there are days when he feels the walls and the sky beyond them pressing down on him and he just has to get up and move.

Today is one of those days. 

He’s walking down the streets of New York and trying to figure out what exactly he is doing here. 

Not here as in New York, but here as in this time. 

It’s a very confusing question, one which he’s ruminated on for quite some time. He still can’t quite figure out the answer. 

He takes refuge in the little cafe that he went to once before the Battle of Manhattan. He likes it, it’s quiet and small and no one knows who he is. It’s nice actually, not having to deal with the same press that Tony has to deal with. Captain America is small compared to the Hulk, Iron Man and Thor. And he almost never takes his mask off during the battle, so he’s mostly safe on the streets. 

The waitress that served him last time comes up and takes his order, she’s cut her long blonde hair since then, it comes just past her shoulders now. She walks away and Steve finds himself staring at her as she leaves.

He pulls out his sketch book and starts to sketch the cafe. He puts the waitress in the shot, smiling down at the old man that is sitting a couple tables over. He doesn’t get to see her that often, so her face is a couple simple lines. He spends time on her hair, making the shading just right.

His food comes and he smiles his thanks at her, starting to eat while adding a couple of lines here and there on his sketch.

He passes a couple of hours like this, eating sporadically, even after it’s gone cold. The waitress keeps bringing him refills of coffee, giving him a soft smile every time she does. 

It gives him an opportunity to draw her face in more detail.

He comes to his senses when he starts to get sore from sitting down so long. He flips his sketchbook closed.

“I’m taking my break now,” he hears the waitress tell her boss, and his heart thuds, maybe he’ll get a couple of words with her before he leaves.

He pulls his wallet out of his back pocket, searching through it for some cash.

The chair across from him pulls out and he looks up to see the waitress sitting down. 

“Hello,” she says with a smile.

“Hello,” Steve returns cautiously. He’s not sure how to handle this new situation.

“I’m Meg,” she says putting her hand out for him to shake. 

He grasps her hand lightly, pumping it once and then letting go. His confusion must show on his face because she continues. 

“I know this is probably a little odd,” she says, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear. “But I just wanted to say thank you.” Her brown eyes bore into his.

“Thank you?” he asks.

She smiles a little bit, the corner of her mouth lifting up. “Did you think I’d forget the face of the man who saved my life?” she asks gently.

Steve flushes and looks down. 

“I don’t know if anyone ever recognizes you, and I don’t know if anyone has ever thanked you for what you do, but-” she seems to become shy now, looking down at her lap, where her hands are twisted together. “But thank you, because you saved this city.”

The unspoken love she has for New York is apparent. Steve finds himself thinking of his old neighborhood and the love he had- the love he still has for it.

He smiles at her and holds out his hand to her again.

“I’m Steve,” he says.

A light slowly dawns on her face and she shakes his hand. 

“Should you be telling me your name?” she asks. “Isn’t it some sort of secret identity?”

He smiles. “I think you’ll keep my secret.”

She stands up. “I have to get back to work,” she says apologetically. “But it was nice meeting you Steve.”

He stands up as well, tucking his sketchbook under one arm. He hesitates for half a second. 

He’s faced down aliens and Nazi’s and willing gone to what he thought was death. He can do this. 

“Can I have your number?”

She turns around, her tongue sticking through her teeth as her mouth spreads out into a grin. “Sure.”

 *   *   *

Bruce and Tony are working together that night when Steve comes into the lab. He has a sketchbook and some pencils in his hand.

Tony looks up. “Can’t sleep?” he asks.

Steve shakes his head. 

Tony grins. “You here to help us with our equations then?”

Steve laughs. “I think I might blow up the world if I tried that.”

“The world has enough problems,” Bruce mutters.

Steve walks over to the couch, collapsing on it and flipping open his sketch book. He looks over at Bruce and Tony, studying them intently before he starts to draw. The sound of pencil against paper fills the background quietly.

Eventually that sound turns into deep breathing, and Tony and Bruce exchange a smirk before continuing on with their work.

Natasha and Clint come into the lab somewhere around three in the morning. Clint’s hovering around her, seeming like he wants to help her walk, but she keeps sending him venomous looks.

An arrow, marked by the red ring that signifies that it’s Hawkeye’s, is sticking out of her shoulder.

Bruce raises his eyes, but doesn’t comment, asking Steve to get the bandages in the adjacent room.

“Role playing gone wrong?” Tony asks with a smirk.

Clint glowers at him, and Bruce frowns slightly.

“Barton, can I talk to you?” Steve asks, and Clint nods tersely, and they walk outside of the lab.

Natasha’s eyes follow him.

She sighs, sitting on the lab table.

“He’s going to be cut up about this for days.”

“Well,” Tony says reasonably. “He did just shoot you.”

Natasha waves her hand, “He’s done it before, the difference is that this time he didn’t _mean_ to do it.”

“I think I want to know,” Tony says, looking intently at her. “I really do want to know.”

“This is going to hurt,” Bruce warns her.

She nods. “I’m ready.”

Bruce anchors one hand against her collarbone and then rips the arrow free. She lets out a little gasp and then steadies, her fingers curling around the edge of the table.

Tony looks at her injury and something dark overshadows his eyes. “Right, I’m out,” he says. “Try not to kill anyone tonight,” he pats her knee as he walks out of the lab.

Bruce doesn’t say anything as he patches her up, figuring that he has no right to pry.

“He thought it was Loki,” Natasha says as she watches him move back to the table behind him for more bandages.

Bruce remains silent for a couple more seconds, weighing the options of what he could say.

“I suppose it’s hard for him,” he says finally, “to remember what it was like to be under his control.”

“Can you remember what it’s like to be the Hulk?” She asks, and then backtracks as she sees his reaction. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, no, it’s .. fine.” Bruce disinfects her wound while she holds back a hiss. “I can remember ... flashes. Just moments. I remember watching Darcy fall through the air after she was pushed off of the tower. I remember working with Thor during the Manhattan invasion. I remember the look on Betty’s face ...” He trails off.

“Does it haunt you?” She watches his face closely.

He wraps a bandage around her shoulder. 

“Everyday.”

 *   *   *

Clint is staring at his laptop intensely with a complete straight face. Still, it doesn’t stop Natasha from noticing the slight twitch at the edge of his jaw. He’s amused by something. 

“What are you doing?” She walks over to him, swaying her hips just slightly, not enough to make it obvious, but enough to distract him just a little bit.

“Reading,” he says, watching her come closer.

“Reading what?”

“Short stories by unpublished authors.”

She snatches the laptop off of his knees in a quick movement and he falls off of the couch in attempt to retrieve it. 

“Natasha,” he moans, tangling himself around her legs, making it impossible for her to move. 

“What the hell?” she asks. 

“Don’t ask,” he says, wrapping his arms around her legs as he curls up around her feet like a dog.

“I’m going to ask.”

“Don’t make me tell.”

“You owe me for the shoulder Barton.”

He looks up. “That’s just mean.”

She raises one eyebrow and hands the computer back to him. He stretches out and gets back onto the couch. She curls up next to him, pressing the side of her body against his. He slides his arm around her back casually and she presses against him, humming slightly.

“It’s called fanfiction.” Clint sighs. “There are these people who write stories based on their favorite characters like they’re their own. And sometimes they do it with real people.”

“So they do it with the Avengers,” Natasha says.

“Yes.”

She squints at the screen. “And they think that Tony and Steve are in a relationship.”

“Well, no, but they are exploring that option.”

“Iron America?”

“We’re Blackeye,” Clint tells her smugly. She looks up at him. “What? It’s a great name!” he defends himself quickly. “It’s not my fault that our code names mesh together so well.”

Natasha laughs. 

“It’s very entertaining to read these,” Clint says. “Basically a third of it is porn, half of it is angst and another third is fluffy cheesy scenes.”

“A third a half and a third?” she raises one eyebrow at him.

“Well, they overlap,” Clint defends himself.

“How did you even find out about this?” Natasha asks.

Clint’s fingers press into her hipbone. “Darcy let something slip. I googled it after she said something.”

“Darcy reads this stuff?”

“Knowing Darcy, she probably writes it,” Clint mutters. He’s scrolling down the menu for more stories.

“That one,” Natasha says, pointing to one.

Clint clicks on it. They start to read together, it’s an Iron America fic. 

Steve walks into the room two chapters in, when it’s already devolved into him and Tony getting married accidentally in Las Vegas.

Clint and Natasha look at each other and burst into laughter.

“What?” Steve asks, rubbing his chin like he’s worried that there’s food on it.

Tony stumbles through the room, heading straight for the kitchen to get coffee.

Clint howls with laughter, rocking back and forth and clutching his stomach. Natasha is slightly more composed, but not by much. Her face is bright red from trying to hold in the laughter and when Tony comes in to stand by Steve she lets out a high pitched giggle.

“What is going on?” Tony asks Steve.

“I don’t know,” Steve says, staring at the two assassins who are currently leaning on each other to stay sitting up and clutching their stomachs, their bodies occasionally rocked with another peal of laughter.

“I can’t decide if I want to know or if I’m better off not knowing,” Tony says, cocking his head to the side.

“You’re better off not knowing,” Clint says. “Trust me.”

“Well, that just makes me curious,” Tony says, moving towards the laptop.

Natasha reacts so fast he doesn’t even see it. She snaps the lid closed and tucks it under her arm, standing up.

She hauls Clint to his feet. “If you’ll excuse us,” she says with a twisted grin on her face. “We have to go,” she pulls Clint to the elevator, and they disappear into it.

Steve just shrugs at Tony.

 *   *   *

Bruce curls up on the mattress, trying to occupy as small a space as possible. He focuses on breathing calmly, regulating his breath.

He gets to the point where he’s not shaking anymore and he stretches out slowly. 

A knock sounds on his door. 

He groans, flopping over to look at his clock. It’s four in the morning. Who is up at four in the morning? Besides all the insomniacs and PTSD ridden soldiers in the building. 

He pads down the hallway into his living room which is used maybe once a month, and opens his door. 

Darcy is standing there is pajamas with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. 

“Darcy, what are you doing here?” 

“I heard you screaming, thought I might see if you were being killed. But, it looks like it was just nightmares, if you bed head is anything to go by.”

She reaches up and flattens out his hair, running her fingers through it. Goosebumps race down his spine.

“The rooms are soundproof,” Bruce says slowly.

She lets her hand drop. Her shoulders rise up and drop again. “So maybe JARVIS told me you were screaming. The point is that I’m here.” She pushes past him into his apartment and heads for his kitchen. “Have you got any tea?”

Bruce follows her, “Yeah, I do,” he says distractedly. “But JARVIS hasn’t ever told anyone about my nightmares before.”

Darcy fills the pot on the stove with water and ignites the burner. She lays her blanket over the back of a chair and then starts to root around his cupboards.

“That’s not the question you should be asking.”

Bruce comes up behind her and opens the correct cupboard, pulling out the tea bags.

“Thank you,” she says, plucking them out of his hands.

“What’s the question that I should be asking?”

“Why did JARVIS call me and not someone else?” Darcy asks, leaning against the counter. She crosses her arms across chest.

Bruce leans against the counter facing her, the tabletop digs into his side. 

He doesn’t want to look her in the eyes, but she staring him down. 

“Ah, well,” he looks down at his feet. He’s rubbing his big toe against the line between the tiles. “It may be because I was screaming your name.”

“And why is that?” Darcy asks, and she looks like she’s trying to hold back a smile.

“I was having a nightmare that I turned into the Hulk and you were right there, and I uh-” he stops, trying to forget how vivid her bones crunching against a wall felt.

She reaches up and places her hand on his arm. 

“Never going to happen,” she says firmly.

“How do you know?”

“Cause, if you transform I’ll run the other way, I’m kinda a wuss,” she admits and smiles shyly up at him.

He can’t help it, he smiles at that. 

She’s looking up at him with a soft kind of hope in her eyes. And he’s giving serious thought to kissing her until it’s not just a thought anymore and he’s leaning forward.

The teapot screams, and Darcy jumps about a foot in the air, and they start laughing. 

She goes to take it off the stove, but he catches her hand and pulls her back in. 

He’s going to kiss her, he’s going to push her up against the island and tangle his fingers in her long brown hair and capture those red lips with his own. She’s going to tangle her fingers in his sleep shirt, making it ride up an inch or so, so that he’ll feel his bare skin against her shirt. She’s going to gasp into his mouth and he’s going to push closer against her so that he can acutely feel her against his body.

“Bruce!” Tony gasps, skidding into his kitchen, and Bruce freezes there, with Darcy’s hand in his, standing two feet apart and the kiss still firmly planted in his head. 

“What Tony?” He’s sure he sounds exasperated, but Tony’s caffeinated and it’s four in the morning, and he’s sure that Tony hasn’t slept in three days, so he doesn’t noticed his tone.

“I figured it out!” Tony shouts, grabbing Bruce’s arm and forcibly dragging him to the door.

Bruce focuses on not becoming too angry at this turn of events. 

“I’ll bring the tea to you in the lab then,” Darcy calls after him.

“Thanks,” he manages to shout back before Tony pushes him through the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple notes, if you want to know more about Clint/Natasha, then check out my previous story Far Side of the Bed, it parallels with this one, so you can read things like their perspective during the Battle of Manhattan and Clint shooting Natasha.   
> Second, when I had the idea for Clint reading fanfiction (cause he totally would) I turned to my roommate and said, "We can totally make fanfiction canon in our fanfiction!"And she stared at me for a second and then said, "What?" So I had to explain some more, but the idea is that if there were actually a band of super hot people saving the Earth from time to time and all living in Stark Tower, we would all be written fanfiction about them, but their ships names would be more of their code names rather than their real names. Like, for instance, the general public don't know Natasha, Clint, Bruce, and Steve's names, they just know their code names.   
> Okay, I'm done now, thank you for reading!


	3. I met a Girl . . .

“Well, I met a girl,” Steve says awkwardly, shifting from one foot to another.

“Who is she?” Bruce asks, smiling a little bit.

“A girl?” Tony pokes his head into the kitchen. “Who’s met a girl?” He takes a look at the occupants of the room. “Must be Steve, Darcy’s got Bruce wrapped around her little finger.”

“I resent that,” Bruce says absently, picking up his tea up again.

“So, who is she, Steve?”

“She works at a diner, and she recognized me because I saved her life during the battle of Manhattan.”

“I need to meet her,” Tony says automatically.

“Meet who?” Clint asks, walking into the room with a bag of Cheetos in his hand and three sticking out of his mouth.

“Those are my Cheetos,” Bruce says with a bit of a groan.

Clint tosses one right into his tea, aim impeccable as usual.

Bruce sighs, expressing his long-suffering in one exhale.

“Steve has a girl,” Tony informs Clint.

“Ooohh,” Clint sings.

“I do _not_ have a girl, I just met her,” Steve says, a blush creeping up his cheeks. He throws the vegetables he’s chopping into the pan.

“Did you get her number?” Natasha asks, with Pepper trailing on her heels.

Darcy trails in just a moment after that, her hair messed up and still in pajamas. Bruce’s eyes immediately lock onto her.

“Who?” Darcy asks, and Steve sighs.

Jane comes staggering in next, bags underneath her eyes and still wearing the same clothes she was wearing last night.

“Coffee,” she’s muttering.

Bruce and Darcy exchange a look. Darcy pours a cup for her former boss and sets it down on the table. “Thank you,” she mumbles.

“Steve got some girl’s number-” Tony starts.

“I never said that!”

“Well did you?” Pepper inquires.

“... Yes.” The blush has turned tomato red.

“Have you called her yet?” Darcy says.

“Let the man breathe, it’s like the Spanish Inquisition here,” Clint says, and Steve sends him a grateful glance.

“What are you making?” Darcy asks, peering over Steve’s shoulder.

“Breakfast,” Steve says. “If everyone can keep their questions to themselves.”

Tony groans. “Unfair bribery!” he half-yells, making Jane jump and clutch her coffee closer.

Darcy goes over and pats her on the back, catching Bruce’s gaze for a moment and then looking away quickly so that she doesn’t burst out into laughter.

“Leave him alone, Tony,” Pepper says. “I’m sure Steve’s smart enough to call a girl without your encouragement.”

She levels her gaze at Steve, making her opinion clear on the matter in just one single glance.

“Yes ma’am.” he mutters.

“We’ll have to do a background check on her before you get into a serious relationship,” Coulson says from the doorway.

Everyone but Clint and Natasha jumps.

“I’m just asking her to dinner,” Steve says, leveling his spatula at them all. 

“So you _are_ asking her out then,” Tony says, a grin on his face. Pepper slaps him upside the head affectionately.

“I’m just making sure,” Tony complains, and then Steve slides a plate of food in front of him and he forgets about the whole ordeal.

 *   *   *

Steve is standing in his living room, staring down at his phone. He takes one deep breath and then presses the call button. 

“Hello?” Her voice is breathy at the other end, and there’s traffic noises in the background. Steve can easily imagine her walking along the streets of New York, with her hair pulled back in a pony tail.

“Hi, it’s, uh, Steve,” he has no idea why he hesitated before his name. He know what his name is. 

“Hi Steve!” the warmth in her voice makes him blush. He can feel the heat radiating off of his cheeks.

“How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good, how are you?” she asks.

There’s a particularly loud honking from the other end. “I’m good,” Steve says.

“-Oh, I’m sorry!” she apologizes to someone on the other end, her voice sounds a bit distant, and then it comes back. “So, what’s up?”

“I-uh, was just wondering if you’d like to go to dinner on Friday?” He’s pacing, and he doesn’t know when that started.

“I’d love to!”

“Great, about eight?”

“Sure, yeah.”

Steve’s emotions level out some and he stops pacing. “I’ll come pick you up, what’s your address?”

He writes it down on a pad of paper as she tells him.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a couple of days then,” he says. 

“Alright, see you then.”

He can hear the smile in her voice. 

“Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

 *   *   *

“So,” Darcy begins.

“Oh no,” Jane says, laying her head on her arm. 

“What?” Darcy is offended that Jane is already despairing of her, really, she hasn’t even told her anything yet.

They’re in a bar that’s a couple blocks over from Stark Tower, each nursing their preferred form of alcoholic drink. It’s an official best friend night.

“That’s your boy face,” Jane says. “I can’t take your boy face right now. I haven’t seen Thor in two months, and I cannot even handle talking about whatever loser you’re interested in.”

“He’s not a loser,” Darcy says, raising her drink to her lips and taking a dignified sip.

Jane is staring at her. “Please tell me it is not who I think it is.”

“I don’t know, who do you think it is?” 

Jane groans. “Please do not tell me you like a certain scientist who has fluffy hair and a fondness for purple shirts. Oh, and he might maybe just explode into a giant green rage monster if he gets too upset.”

Darcy waves her hand. “Details,” she says.

“Darcy,” Jane says wearily.

“He can control it!” she exclaims, more than a little defensively.

“Yes, the same way the Titanic controlled crashing into the iceburg.”

Darcy looks down, staring into her glass. She stands up, sliding money onto the bar and walking away.

“Darcy,” Jane protests behind her, and she can hear her friend and former boss digging money out of her own pocket to pay for her drink and scrambling after her.

Darcy pushes her way out the door and onto the street waving for a cab. She opens the door and slides inside. “Stark Tower please,” she says.

Jane slides in beside her, and Darcy grudgingly scoots over to accommodate her.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Jane says. “That was mean.”

Darcy looks out the window.

“But, Darce, you have to understand that he is not the safest choice for a crush.”

 _Choice?_ Darcy wants to say, _It wasn’t a_ choice. _One day I just showed up for work and he was slumped over the lab table, fast asleep because he hadn’t been to bed in three days and when I woke him up he looked up at me and blinked slowly twice and ran a hand through his hair, and he just looked_ vulnerable. _And I knew._

“He needs someone,” Darcy says, “and I’m more than willing to be that person for him. I’m in just as much danger as you are. We live with the Avengers, and becoming closer to one of them will not mean that I’m suddenly going to die.”

“Darcy,” Jane says slowly, as if she need to make sure this gets through to her. “You were pushed off the top of a skyscraper.”

“Yes, and the Hulk saved me.” The car stopped. Darcy flung some cash up to the driver and got out. 

Jane follows her and they step into the elevator. Jane pushes the button for her floor and Darcy pushes the floor for the lab.

“Okay, look,” Jane says, “I don’t have much room to talk, I’m in love with a god who periodically leaves for several months at a time without much of a warning. So, if you die because of something that happens, I’ll be sure to say only nice things at your funeral.” She pats Darcy’s shoulder.

This has been a running joke between them for a while. It helps smooth things over. 

“Okay,” Darcy says, smiling at her. “That’s fair.”

“Great, next time we go out you get to hear me whine about all the problems in my life while I’m living in a skyscraper living off of Tony Stark’s money,” Jane waltzes out of the elevator waving goodbye.

“First world problems,” Darcy grins.

“Exactly.”

The door close again and start to move upwards toward the labs. The elevator dings and Darcy steps out onto the floor, making her way towards the lab that Bruce is normally in and hoping he’s alone. 

He is, she can see him through the window, hunched over some papers and occasionally peeking through the microscope.

She walks in, he doesn’t even register the noise of the door opening and falling shut. 

Darcy hesitates for just a moment, but she’s Darcy Lewis, and she never hesitates for long.

She tugs his elbow, pulling him around to face her. He follows her touch easily, used to following her touch to get out of the lab and to food or sleep.

“Darcy,” he says, his eyes lighting up just slightly as he sees her, “You’ll-”

And damn, the way he looks as he sees her is something that never fails to give her a thrill.

He never gets farther than that word because Darcy has pushed herself onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his.

She freezes there, unsure of what his reaction will be. 

He freezes as well, completely caught off guard. She starts to panic silently. What if she had read it wrong, and he didn’t even like her? Darcy’s just about to pull away and start stammering apologies when his hands settle on her hips and pull her closer.

And, yes, he’s thought about this before, she can tell in the way his hands are sure as they bury themselves in her hair and push her up against the lab table so he can press against her more firmly. She can tell in the pressure of his lips, which are not hard and hungry like so many boys she’d kissed before, but soft and exploring, taking their time. She can tell when the break apart for air just a moment, and he whispers her name like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

He lifts her up to sit on the lab table and she takes the opportunity to wrap her legs around his waist eagerly.

She’s been waiting for this for so long. 

She runs her fingers through his hair, making it stand on end even more than usual, which makes her chuckle breathlessly when she sees it.

“I’m too old for you,” he says, when he stops exploring her mouth with his own and is looking up at her with his big brown eyes. 

She can’t help but think of a puppy dog when he does that.

“I don’t care,” she says, twisting her fingers into his shirt, making it ride up a few inches.

He shifts closer to her unconsciously, and his hand goes down to encompass as much of her thigh as possible. 

“I’m dangerous,” he says.

“As is everyone else in the building.”

“I could hurt you though,” he looks troubled, he’s looking anywhere but at her eyes, and trying-and desperately failing- not to look at her mouth.

“God, Bruce, could you just kiss me again?”

So he does.

 *   *   *

Pepper looks up from the book that she’s reading to see Tony edging into the room. She checks her watch. “It’s only midnight,” she says. “I thought you’d be in the workshop for at least another three hours.”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. 

He’s swaying almost imperceptibly.

Pepper marks her spot carefully and puts her book on the nightstand. She slides down into the bed, making herself comfortable.

She waves him closer.

Tony comes and gingerly sits on the edge of the bed, like she’s going to bite him.

“What did you do?” she asks wearily.

“I didn’t do anything!” he yelps, clearly scandalized that that was her first thought.

“Well, you won’t look me in the eyes, and you look like you’re afraid I’m going to swallow you whole.”

He starts grumbling, standing up and walking over to the closet, yanking his shirt off. The light of the arc reactor bounces off of the walls as he walks.

“It was nothing,” he calls from the closet, and the light is muted somewhat, so she knows he’s put on a T-shirt.

He comes back out in baggy cotton pants and an ACDC shirt.

He climbs into bed, pulling the comforter up to his waist.

“Tony, what is it?” she asks. 

He turns on his side to face her, so that they are a few inches away. His warm hand finds it way to her waist, resting there.

“Do you ever want to get married?” he asks.

She blinks slowly and makes sure her heart starts up again before she answers. “I’ve always wanted that,” she answers honestly. “I thought once that I’d have a house and four kids by now, but that was before I met you.”

“Did I ruin all your plans with other men, they just all seemed so inadequate after spending the day working for me. Pepper, I was your boss then, you shouldn’t have been thinking that way.” He’s smirking.

She pushes against his chest. 

“Everyone did seem a little boring after you,” she admits. 

“But do you want a house and the white picket fence?” His nose rolls up a little but as he thinks about it.

“Tony, I want you, and if that means a skyscraper instead of a house, an AI instead of a white picket fence and master assassins instead of children, I’m okay with that.”

“Do you want children on top of the master assassins though?” Tony asks.

Pepper seems to consider it. “The idea does appeal to me,” she admits. “But do you want children? Do you even want to get married?”

“No, I mean, I do,” he says. “I mean, I want it if it’s you.” He seems to force himself to stop talking at this point. She can see him order his thoughts before speaking again. “What I’m saying is that I want to marry you.” He pauses. “And I think you deserve children, I’m not so sure about me.”

She presses closer. “You would be a wonderful father.”

He stares at her for several moments.

After a while she says, “I hope that’s not an official marriage proposal, because I would like it to be much more romantic than that.”

“So you would be okay with it if I proposed then?” he asks quickly, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a rush.

She nodded.

He props himself up on one elbow. “Pepper, would you like to go out to dinner on Saturday?” he asks.

“I would love to,” she grins, and pulls him down for a kiss.

 *   *   *

“Did you know that people pair you with Tony, and Bruce?” Clint asks, as he scrolls through the website.

He shuts the laptop down and places it on his nightstand. 

“I don’t like it,” he says.

Natasha is standing at the dresser, removing her earrings. She wearing cotton boxers and an over large sweatshirt. 

God, he loves the sight of her.

She rolls her eyes at Clint’s possessiveness. “You don’t own me,” she says. 

“I know, but that doesn’t mean that I like the thought of you with someone else.” Clint slides down further in bed.

She turns around, crawling underneath the blankets and curling up right next to him. She throws an arm around his waist and slips her leg in between his, letting out a comfortable sigh.

“You don’t have to worry about Tony,” she says, “and if I tried anything with Bruce, I think Darcy might try to kill me. I don’t want to injure her, I like her.”

Clint chuckles and slides an arm around her waist, pulling her even closer. He drops a kiss on her forehead.

She shifts a little bit, wiggling against him to tilt her head up and kiss him on the mouth- their third kiss that isn’t for an audience. 

Clint smiles into it.

She pulls back a little bit and says in a low voice, “I have never kissed anyone else just because I wanted to.”

Clint slides his calloused hand over her bare leg, watching her shiver just a little bit. 

*   *   * 

Steve and Meg are sitting in a dark restaurant, the conversation has come to a slight halt. 

“Look,” she whispers, pointing to two men who are walking in. One is tall, and skinny, with a mop of blond hair. The other is smaller, well-built and has straight black hair that is sweeping across his forehead. “What’s their story?” she asks him.

“What?” he asks.

“Make up a story for them,” she says, a slight smile twisting her lips.

“Best friends since childhood,” he says, the picture appearing in his minds eye.

“And recently turned lovers,” Meg declares, “After the shorter one got into a car crash.”

“A car crash?” Steve asks. “I think it was Afghanistan.”

“Such a soldier,” Meg grins. “Afghanistan then, they wrote each other letters while he was deployed.”

“The other one, the tall one, will propose next week.”

Meg sits back, looking satisfied with their projections. “Very romantic,” she compliments him.

“Thank you.” Steve can feel a blush creeping up his neck.

“So, not to change the subject entirely or anything, but you draw?” she asks.

Steve nods. “Yeah, I started when I was a kid. Back then I wasn’t very athletic.” She raises her eyebrow at that. “But I was good a drawing things, and it just became my hobby.”

“I’d like to see some of you pictures sometime, if that’s alright.”

Steve looks up, no has ever asked that before. “Yeah,” he says. “That would be good.”

She leans back, letting the waiter place food in front of her.

“What about you?” Steve asks, smiling his thanks at their waiter. “What’s your hobby.”

“I write,” she says, placing a napkin over her lap.

“Fiction? Poetry?” he inquires.

“Fiction, fantasy mostly actually. But I’ve never actually finished a book, which is a problem.”

He smiles at her, “Well, if you get to see my art, do I get to read your novels?”

She looks suddenly unsure, then she nods. “I guess that’s a fair trade,” she allows.

Steve’s phone suddenly rings. He frowns, he’d put it on silent. 

 _Damn._ He thinks, reaching for his pocket.

“I’m really really very sorry,” he tells Meg, “I would never answer my phone, but this is the emergency ring.”

She waves her fork through the air, “The hazards of being a superhero,” she says quietly so that no one else will hear. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks.” He stands up, working his way to the back of the restaurant to press the _accept_ button.

“Hello?” he asks.

“Cap,” Natasha says. She never calls him Cap unless they’re on a mission. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“He’s gone,” she says, and her voice quavers. “They are gone,” she corrects herself and he can imagine her straightening up and taking control of herself again.

“Who?” 

“Tony, Darcy and Clint.”

“When were they taken?” 

“Thirty minutes ago. We had to sedate Bruce for a while, he was about Hulk out.”

“Where are you at?”

“Headquarters.”

“I’m on my way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They were all so happy, something terrible had to happen, and, of course, we had to get to the plot part. . . .


	4. This is his team, this is his family.

Meg accepts the fact that the date is over with good grace, but that doesn’t stop Steve from apologizing a minimum of fifteen times as he catches her a cab.

“It’s fine, Steve, really, I knew there was a chance that this might happen.”

“I’ll make it up to you when this is all over,” he promises as he opens the door for her. 

She studies him for a moment before nodding decisively, “Okay.” She leans over and presses her lips to his for the briefest of seconds.

Steve turns red.

“See you later,” she says, her tongue sticking out of her teeth as she smiles and she slides into the cab. Steve shuts the door behind her and then turns to the black SUV that contains Coulson.

He gets into the back seat. Coulson hands a folder back to him, containing pictures of Tony and Darcy getting into a limo after their charity event and Clint, a hand slapping his neck, and turning around while simultaneously is falling over. 

“Who is it?” Steve asks.

“We don’t know yet,” Coulson says in his brisk agent voice. “We have people working around the clock, believe me we don’t want people to force Tony to build weapons for them.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Steve says automatically.

Coulson tilts his head. “Not if he was alone, but they have Clint and Darcy to torture in order to get him to do what he wants. Clint’s a trained professional and Tony know that, but he won’t hold up if they go after Darcy.”

Steve can feel his heart sinking into his stomach. “How’s the rest of the team handling this?”

“We had to sedate Bruce for a while,” Coulson says, repeating Natasha’s words, “And Natasha is ready to kill someone.”

“How’s Pepper?” Steve asks, scanning through the list of suspects in the file.

“She’s fine, she’s been through this before.”

Steve looks up, the lights of the city are flashing across Coulson’s face. “Right,” Steve says quietly, remembering reading about Tony’s abduction a couple years ago. “But they weren’t dating then,” Steve says quietly.

Coulson nods tightly. “She knows the risks.”

Steve knows Coulson will be distant until the mission is over, that’s how he works. Steve cannot do that. This is his team, this is his family.

They pull up to Headquarters. 

They bypass security, Coulson flashing a badge and Steve giving the woman there a smile. 

They enter Director Fury’s office. Natasha is sitting on the edge of the chair there, her hands on her knees and perfectly still. Steve knows she’s probably taking Clint’s kidnapping pretty hard. 

Fury is pacing behind his desk.

Thor is standing in between them with his arms crossed and a scowl firmly planted on his face.

“Thor,” Steve says, and he can’t help the relief that’s in his voice. He needs as many members of the team as he can get, and going after Tony, Clint and Darcy with just him and the Black Widow was a little daunting. 

Thor looks back at him miserably. “I’m afraid this is my fault,” he says in his booming voice. 

“What?”

“It’s Loki,” Natasha says, and she stands up, taking control of herself. “He escaped.”

Steve sighs. 

Coulson remains standing at his side, his hands clasped in front of him and unmoving. He must be remembering Loki’s spear through his chest. 

“Do we know where they are?” Steve asks.

Fury shakes his head. “The arc reactor gives off a specific signal, but unfortunately there are only two scientists in the world familiar enough with it to actually track it. One is kidnapped, the other is sedated right now.”

“How long until he wakes up?” Steve asks Natasha directly, pulling her into the mission.

“Two hours,” she answers.

“Okay, right, until that time we trace the car,” Steve says. “Find out the general area of where they’re going, make it easier for Doctor Banner when he wakes up.”

Natasha nods, “I’ll start that.” 

She leaves the room. “Thor, does Loki still have the scepter?” Steve asks, already scared of the idea of Clint with glassy blue eyes again. 

“No, it was destroyed,” Thor answers.

Steve nods, takes a deep breath and says, “Go help Natasha, try to figure out what Loki would do,” Steve says, mostly to get him out of the room. 

Thor nods, still looking miserable, and follows Natasha out. 

“Well, now at least we know why he took Clint,” Steve says, rubbing his forehead. “He probably knows all of Loki’s hideouts.” He stands in front of Director Fury’s desk. “I’d like to request permission to and access to whatever I need to rescue my team,” Steve says. 

“Granted,” Fury says immediately. “Steve, you need to acknowledge that they might already be dead,” he adds softly.

The Captain shakes his head. “Loki’s got a plan, he needs something, he won’t kill them.” 

Tony, at least, is definitely safe, Loki need him to build something. Darcy was simply there, but they’ll keep her alive for leverage to make Tony work. Clint, they could have killed Clint immediately. They have no use for him.

Iciness fills Steve’s veins. 

Natasha, of course, knows this. She would have worked it out immediately. Steve doesn’t even want to think about what she’s going through.

 _“_ Well, if you’ll excuse me,” Steve says, and he walks out of the office to find his team.

 *   *   *

Tony wakes up but doesn’t move, keeping his eyes closed and his body motionless. He’s trying to remember what happened.

He and Darcy were at a charity event. There was this old woman who kept flirting with him until the entire night had become Avoid-Mrs.-Finnegan-At-All-Costs. Darcy had given him a way out after an hour of ducking and dodging and completely utterly failing.

“Mr. Stark, there’s an emergency, you’re needed.” She said, while holding a phone to her ear. “I’m terribly sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Finnegan, but I’m afraid the city needs Iron Man once again.”

“Oh, that’s quite alright,” Mrs. Finnegan said, “Go on, save the world.”

Tony had grinned his thanks at Darcy and practically skipped out of that building and into his car that had been waiting for him.

Into the car where Loki was waiting for him.

Shit. He’d been kidnapped. _Again._

This is really starting to get old. Oh, God, they are probably going to ask him to build something. How cliche. 

And Darcy had been with him, which meant that Bruce was going to _kill him_ when they got back, as long as Pepper didn’t beat him to it.

Pepper. He was going to miss the date tomorrow night-or he supposed it could technically be tonight now. He’d had it all planned....

He decides it’s time to open his eyes, assess his surroundings. 

He’s in a cell, underground if he’s going by the damp walls and general chilliness to the air. He’s lying on a very uncomfortable cot, and his cell isn’t much bigger than the cot itself.

He scoots to the end of the bed to look out the bars into the hallway.

“Hello?” he tries, wondering if they put anyone in the same vicinity as him.

“Tony, if I die because of this, _I will kill you._ ” Darcy’s voice comes from across the hall and slightly to the right. 

“I’m here too,” Clint says from Tony’s right.

“Clint, nice to have you here, glad you could join us. It’s not my usual vacation spot, but it’ll do I suppose,” Tony says.

“You know, there’s something about the mold that’s romantic,” Clint quips back, “I’m thinking this would be a great honeymoon spot.”

Tony was planning on taking Pepper to Venice, “You refused last time,” he would have told her, “And I nearly died, are you sure you want to take that chance?”

He’s trying to get around the lump in his throat when Darcy speaks, “Clint, Natasha would slit your wrists and watch you bleed to death for fun if you ever brought her here on a honeymoon.”

Clint doesn’t deny it, not even the Natasha-part. They all know, they’ve been sharing a floor for months, ever since they moved in. 

Clint sighs, “She might do that just because I got kidnapped. She hates it when I do that.”

“How’d they get you?” Tony asks.

“I was getting ice cream and they tranq-ed me from the back.”

Tony whistles, “That’s low,” he says.

“I know! Ice cream!” Clint says, clearly anguished.

“What is the world coming to when you can’t even get ice cream without being kidnapped by your old enemy. Nothing is sacred,” Darcy says solemnly from the other side of the hall.

“Exactly!” Clint lapses into silence. “So,” he says after a while, “happen to know who got us?”

“Loki,” Tony says flatly.

There’s a beat of silence.

“Brilliant,” Clint says.

 *   *   *

Bruce sits up slowly, clutching at his head. There’s classical music playing.

“Good morning, Doctor,” Coulson says drily. He barely looks up from the Sudoku that he’s working on.

Bruce’s head feels like it’s full of cotton. He takes a moment to sit there and remember what happened. Right, Darcy was taken.

He takes deep breaths, focusing on the violin music that is playing. 

“Are you going to be alright?” Coulson asks distractedly, like his life is not on the line. Like there’s no danger of being smashed through a wall.

“I’ll be fine,” Bruce says, firmly pushing the image of Darcy being beaten out of his head.

“Good,” Coulson says, tucking his pen into his newspaper and then pinning it between his body and his upper arm. “We need your help tracing the arc reactor.”

Bruce’s eyes light up, and he starts to mutter underneath his breath. 

Coulson leads the way into the control room, where there are rows of computers lined up with someone typing frantically away at them.

Natasha is flitting from one row to the next, gathering data from everyone. Thor is in deep discussion with Steve.

“Bruce,” Steve says, coming over to touch his shoulder and steer him towards a computer station “If you could,” he asks. 

Bruce nods, flexing his fingers before diving in.

“Son of a Bitch,” Natasha says from behind him.

Bruce swivels in his chair to see her standing with her hands on her hips and staring down at a computer screen.

“What?” Steve asks.

“They’re in Greenland!” Natasha exclaims.

“Greenland?” Steve repeats.

“That’s what I said.”

“I don’t understand, why in Greenland?” Bruce asks. 

“There’s almost no people, or, more specifically, almost no cameras,” Natasha says with disgust, throwing her papers onto the counter. “It could take months to search all that land. _Months._ And we don’t have that kind of time.”

She throws an agonized look at Steve, who lays a hand on her shoulder.

“Well,” Bruce says, and they all turn to them. “The good news is, there’s not much electrical energy there either, which will make tracing the arc reactor easier.” He doesn’t even stop to look at their reactions to that, simply turns in his swivel chair again and starts pounding away at the keyboard.

He’s got to get to Darcy.

 *   *   *

“Comfortable?” Loki’s voice comes from the end of the hallway.

“Now that you mention it,” Clint says, “I’ve always wanted to be kidnapped by a raving lunatic and then forced to stay in a cell underground. I mean, honestly, it’s been my lifelong dream for a while now.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Loki responds in his dry voice. 

“Yeah, the room service could use a little work though,” Tony says, grinning slightly now.

“And the maid service!” Darcy chimes in. “God, Loki, honestly, what kind of people do you hire for this joint? My sheets haven’t been changed in _days._ ”

Loki doesn’t respond this time, just waves his hand for a couple of guards to come forward, opening Tony’s cell.

They drag him out first, as another pair go to Darcy’s cell. For a second, Tony thinks that they aren’t going to bring Clint wherever they’re going, but then they unlock his cell too. 

Tony shakes his head imperceptibly at Clint. The assassin's mouth tightens. Tony knows that he wants to rip their throats out, and honestly he can’t say he would be disappointed. 

But they don’t know how many people Loki’s got, where the hell they are, and if they are even on _Earth._  

So escape at this point, would be more like attempted suicide. 

Say what you will about Tony, he likes life.

The two soldiers on either side of him take his arms roughly and start to take him down the hall, where they climb stairs for seems like an hour. If Tony had not been training everyday for endurance, he would have been gasping for air. He makes a mental note to never, ever tell Steve that his regime paid off.

They emerge in a workshop, and Tony starts laughing. He can’t help it. He’s giggling.

“What?” Loki hisses at him.

“Well, you have to admit,” Darcy says, “it’s only the mother of all cliches. Kidnapping Tony Stark to make him build something? I mean, come on, we need a bit more originality in here.”

“I need you to build a portal that will sustain itself long enough to get several thousand people through, rather than just me.” Loki walks around the edge of one of the tables in the workshop.

“Yeah, not going to happen,” Tony says, leaning on the table nonchalantly. He staring at the workshop, and damn, he has to admit that it’s pretty sweet. All the tools he needs right here. He could probably build another Iron Man if he wanted. 

Not that Loki would ever let that happen.

“You will do it,” Loki says, letting his fingers trail along the surface of the tabletop.

“Well, here’s what I’m thinking,” Tony says, holding up both of his index fingers in preparation to share his thoughts. “I think that there’s really only one reason why you would want to build a portal like that.” He backs away just slightly. His guards move with him. “And that’s to bring yet another alien army in, and I just don’t think that’s in the best interest of humanity. Honestly the Battle of Manhattan is like High School Musical in that it shouldn’t have a sequel.”

Clint’s lips tweak a little bit.

“Don’t knock High School Musical,” Darcy says in a low voice that holds so much malice that even Loki takes a step away from her.

“You will do what I ask,” Loki repeats.

“Yeah, no,” Tony says a little forcefully. “I don’t know if you remember the part where I refused, but it definitely happened. You can do whatever you want with me, I’m not building that bridge.”

“I’m not going to do anything to you,” Loki says. “I’m going to hurt her,” he points to Darcy.

She has the nerve to laugh. 

“Oh my God,” Darcy says. “the Hulk will tear you apart. He’s a little fond of me,” she confides. “You remember him, don’t you? The guy who tossed you around like a rag doll?”

“He will not find us here.”

“Do you really think our team is going to give up?” Tony asks. “Because they won’t. They will find us, and then you’ll be right back in prison.”

“Natasha will come,” Clint says, confident in his knowledge.

“The woman who doesn’t even love you?” Loki mocks. 

Clint shrugs. “Of course she doesn’t love me. I don’t love her.”

Loki’s eyes raise up.

“I _know_ Natasha,” Clint continues, and shifts to the side, casually resting his hand on the tabletop.“Which a much greater privilege than merely loving her. And she knows me. And I know she’ll come, she won’t stop until she does.” Tony sees a pen disappear into his sleeve.

“And then there’s Steve,” Darcy offers.

“Who won’t stop trying to find his team until the stars go out,” Tony agrees with a smile. “And then your brother, the demi-god.”

Loki’s eyes latch onto Tony, remembering the same words several months ago. 

“This world suffers so much, and you honestly think that you are doing good? Do you think that your band of ragged, broken so-called heroes are actually helping when there is _so much_ pain and suffering in this world? A competent ruler could change all of that.”

Tony shrugs. “Debatable. My moral compass is a little off, but Captain America-who I think we can all agree is pretty much the definition of good- seems to think we’re doing some thing right, and I trust him. So, let me reiterate once again. _I will not do what you want._ ”

Loki laughs. The sound makes Tony’s spine twist in discomfort. “Do what I ask,” Loki says, “Or watch the girl bleed to death.”

Tony backs up against a work bench. His hands wrap around the end of a blowtorch there. He could use one of these in his sleep.

Loki nods to one of the guards that is next to Darcy and he pulls out a gun, aiming for the knee.

“Clint,” Tony says, and nods. Because damned if he’s going to let Darcy get shot.

A wicked grin comes over the other man’s face. The pen that he stashed away suddenly makes a reappearance, burying itself in the gun-wielding maniac’s neck. Darcy jumps out of the gush of blood.

Tony’s set of guards come towards him, but he holds the blowtorch out in front of him hurriedly and ignites it. One of them is burned on the face rather badly, and Tony knocks him in the head, hard, so he falls to the ground unconscious. The other one keeps coming towards him.

The blow torch won’t ignite again, but then suddenly there’s something silver pressed against the base of his opponents neck, and he drops like a stone. 

Darcy stand behind him, wiggling her new taser and saying, “Thank you Coulson.”

Clint knocks out the last of guards, slamming his head against the table and turns around. 

Loki is sprawled on the ground, unconscious.

Tony raises his eyebrows at Darcy. “Thank you Coulson,” he repeats. “Where did you even hide that thing?”

Darcy grins at him. “Please,” she says. “Don’t ask.”

Tony and Clint look at each other. “We want to know,” Tony says.

“We really want to know,” Clint adds.

“I think we should be a little bit more focused on getting out of here,” Darcy says.

“Right,” Tony says, starting for the door and then pausing. He turns around, his index fingers held out in front of him. “Are we even on Earth?”

“How is this my life?” Darcy asks the ceiling.

It doesn’t answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, updates may start to come a little slower, because we've almost caught up to the point where I'm at, and it's midterms these next couple weeks. But don't worry, I'll write as fast as I possibly can for you lovely people. Seriously, you guys are awesome, thanks for reading and your kudos and most of all for your comments.


	5. The Fellowship in Greenland

There’s a commotion at the door and Steve turns around, wondering what could be happening.

“Rhodey,” he hears a voice say, “I’m authorized to be here, kindly step aside so that I can speak with Captain Rogers.”

“It’s okay,” Steve says, walking over, “he can come in.”

Rhodey walks in, saluting Steve on his way. The Captain returns the salute.

“What have you got?” Rhodey asks, staring out at the team that has been assembled.

Jane had showed up a couple hours ago, completely ignoring Thor and walking straight over to Bruce. They started talking in what sounded like a completely different language, but Steve knew it was just science. The basic point of it was that they’d started tracking Tony, and now it would be a few hours.

Steve hands Rhodey a folder. “Tony and Darcy got taken after their Charity event last night, Clint was taken around the same time on the streets. It was Loki, we’ve tracked them to Greenland, and Jane and Bruce are narrowing the field now. We were just about to leave on the jet.”

Rhodey snaps the folder closed. “I want to come with you.”

“I don’t want to ask that of you,” Steve starts.

“You didn’t, I volunteered, and you need someone else who can be in the air if you’re going to be searching for them, I can give you some of that air support.” Rhodey looks like he isn’t budging on the point. “Besides,” he says, “Tony’s my best friend, I didn’t give up on him last time he was kidnapped and I’m not giving up on him now.”

“We need him, Cap,” Natasha says quietly from his side. 

“Yeah, okay,” Steve says, and holds his hand out for Rhodey to shake. 

“Can we go now?” Bruce asks, balling his jacket up and shoving it underneath his arm. “Jane’s going to handle the tracking from here, and we can start on our way to Greenland.”

“Are you in control?” Steve asks. He doesn’t want to call attention to Bruce, but they will be in a small aircraft for the next several hours and it would not be helpful to have him Hulk out.

“I’m good,” Bruce nods. 

“I will be back soon,” Thor tells Jane and she nods, tilting her head up to kiss him goodbye.

“Be careful,” she tells them all. “Bring them back safe.”

“We’ll do our best,” Steve says.

 *   *   *

Coulson flies the jet, Natasha sits up in the cockpit with him, curled up on the seat. If she’s being honest with herself she’s here because Coulson knows Clint too, will suffer heartbreak if he’s dead as well. It’s comforting to know that she will have someone to share misery with.

Of course, Steve knows exactly what is going on in her head. How he does that she has no idea, but, again, it’s comforting. 

Everything about the team is so damn comforting, it irritates her. She knew a while back that she was getting trapped in with them, and she had let it happen. She had let it happen because she’d already been trapped with Clint, and she wasn’t about to leave him.

When Natasha decides she likes someone that’s the end of it. 

Rhodey and Steve are discussing something quietly in the background. Bruce will be sitting quietly, staring at his folded hands. Natasha knows because that’s what she’s doing. She and Bruce are surprisingly similar when it comes to dealing with pain.

“Stop it,” Coulson says, his eyes scanning the readouts casually.

“What?”

“Stop pouting, it’s not a good look for a master assassin.”

She scowls at him. “None of your damn business if I pout or not,” she says.

“Of course it is,” he says. “I’m your handler, I’m supposed to make sure that you’re well-adjusted and happy.”

Natasha keeps the scowl firmly fixed in place and goes back to staring at the cloud bank beneath them. 

“Clint’s capable, he’ll be fine,” Coulson’s voice is smooth, unruffled, the way it always is when she hears it over the comms. 

“Do you know that?” she asks. “Is that something that you know?”

Coulson looks over at her. “Well, he hasn’t let us down yet.”

“It only takes once, Phil.” Natasha pulls her knees up and focuses on the soft chatter of Steve and Rhodey.

 *   *   *

It’s unspoken that Clint is in charge, he’s the only one that actually has experience in the field, and the only one who can actually take charge without squabbling. 

“Take the jackets,” Clint commands before they leave the compound. He’s peering into a hallway cupboard. He pulls out several jackets and throws them at Darcy and Tony. He pulls out a tangle of boots that are at the bottom and find ones in his size and guess for Tony and Darcy. “Put these on,” he commands.

Darcy tucks her heels into her jacket pocket. Clint raises and eyebrow at her. 

“They’re my favorite,” she defends herself.

“Come, on,” Clint says, creeping down the hallway. “We have to find pants. My guess is that it’s freezing out there.”

Tony and Darcy follow him. The building isn’t very big, and when they run into someone Clint silences them without a sound.

Darcy looks away.

Clint pulls out several pairs of pants for them. He tosses them cotton pajamas pants, “Put these on underneath, and then the pants,” he commands them. 

Darcy keeps her nylons on, hoping they’ll giver her some extra warmth.

“Let’s get out of here,” Clint says, his left hand flexing unconsciously, as if hoping for a bow.

“This cannot be Earth,” Tony says when they step outside.

“No,” Clint agrees, “it’s Greenland.”

“It’s _freezing,”_ Darcy complains, her teeth already chattering. 

“Let’s take the car,” Clint gestures at the lone vehicle there.

After Clint unlocks the door with some ninja magic, Darcy crawls into the backseat, huddling up there, with her knees to her chest. 

Tony takes the front seat. Clint is bent underneath the dashboard, hot-wiring the car.

The engine catches and Clint hops into the seat, “Try to get some sleep,” he tells Tony and Darcy. “When the gas runs out we’ll have to walk.”

“Fantastic,” Darcy mutters to herself and lets her eyes slide shut.

Tony even settles into the seat, leaning his head against the side of the car and closing his eyes.

Clint pulls away from the small little building on the coast of Greenland. As he drives down the coast his palm comes up and rubs unconsciously at his heart.

 *   *   *

It takes them about five hours to run out of gas, and honestly, Clint is surprised that it took them that long. 

“Wake up!” he says loudly enough so that Tony jolts out of sleep with a terrified look on his face, breathing heavily. He looks around frantically before remembering where he is, and then his face settles into an easy smile.

Darcy wakes up more slowly, sitting up and rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “I was hoping this had all been a dream,” she admits. 

“No such luck,” Tony replies, “Are we walking now?” he asks Clint.

Clint stares ahead for a moment before replying, “Yes.”

They all sit there for a second, allowing the dread of the moment to overcome them. 

Clint rouses himself and opens the door, the cold wind rushing in over them. Tony and Darcy climb out of the car with him, and start to walk down the coast.

“How’d you know it was Greenland?” Tony asks.

Clint thinks back to cold nights spent with him and Natasha wrapped around each other for warmth and says, “I had a mission here once.”

They’re silent after that, because talking requires shouting over the wind. They walk until it becomes too dark to see anymore, and then they stop for the night.

Clint vetoes a fire, which makes Tony pout. 

“How much longer are we going to walk?” Darcy asks, her teeth chattering getting in the way of her words.

“Until we find a town, or until the team or Loki finds us,” Clint says, pulling water bottles out of his jacket pockets.

They’re frozen solid, even after spending time next to him body heat. He cracks them as best as he can, giving Darcy and Tony ice to suck on. 

“One does not simply walk across Greenland,” Tony says around his ice chips. 

Darcy laugh appreciatively and Clint cracks a smile.

“We are totally the Fellowship though,” Darcy says, “I’m Frodo, Clint is Sam and Tony’s Gollum.” 

Clint laughs at that, while Tony protests, “Hey!”

“That is so not accurate though,” Tony continues after a moment, “because Clint is clearly Legolas.”

“Okay fine,” Darcy says, conceding the point. “But that makes Natasha Gimli, because she’s his partner.”

Clint’s head snaps up at that, and then a giggle escapes from him. “The mental image,” he manages before he starts laughing so hard he can’t speak anymore.

“You and Jane are totally Merry and Pippin,” Tony says, a grin breaking out on his face. “And I’m Aragorn.”

“What? Why do you get to be the King, I mean, shouldn’t that be Thor?” Clint asks.

“No, but think about it,” Darcy says, struggling to sit up around her marshmallow of a jacket. “Tony’s the son of a wealthy man and spent years trying to deny who he is, and then finally accepts it, and does the Noble Thing and saves lives. It works.”

Clint shrugs, “Alright fine.”

“This makes Pepper that elf lady,” Tony says grinning.

“Her name is Arwen,” Darcy says, sighing.

“Steve is Sam,” Tony says firmly, “The unwavering loyalty, being dragged into an adventure without really realizing it, etc.”

“And Bruce is Frodo,” Darcy says, “the whole, ‘I have to go it alone’ thing and then they both have fluffy hair.”

Tony can hear the smile in her voice.

“Coulson is Gandalf the White, because he came back to life,” Clint says.

“And that leaves Thor with Boromir. He better not die, because then Jane will be unconsolable.” Darcy flops back down on the ground, curling up. 

The very last light is fading, which means that Tony can’t even see her outline anymore, just blackness.

“We should keep watch,” Clint says.

“I’ve got the first watch,” Tony volunteers, he’s not feeling tired at all actually. Insomnia, it’s a bitch.

Clint nods, and settles down for the night, curling up on the ground.

Tony pulls his knees up to his chest, hoping that the arc reactor won’t malfunction with the low temperature. They need to get home.

 *   *   *

Bruce’s phone goes off, “ _It’s not easy being green, Having to spend each day the color of the leaves, When I think it could be nicer being red, or yellow, or gold, Or something much more colorful like that.”_

“Darcy,” he mutters to himself, grinning as he pulls the phone out of his pocket. “Hello?”

“I’m sending the coordinates to you now,” Jane says on the other line. 

“Thank you,” Bruce says, standing up to move to the cockpit to give the numbers to Coulson.

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” Jane says. “Bring Darcy back safe.” 

“I will,” he promises.

*   *   *  

“I hate Greenland,” Tony mutters as they get up the next morning.

“Me too,” Darcy says bitterly. “It’s too cold.”

“There are no trees,” Clint says sadly as he looks around. 

Tony thinks of the times when Clint just sits on the roof of the tower when they’re at home, and he thinks he can understand why that would bother him.

But Tony _hates_ Greenland. Not just because he’s freezing and he can’t feel his toes, and not just because he’s thirsty and the sound of the crashing ocean is getting on his nerves. No, he hates Greenland because he had had Saturday all planned out to a T, and he had the ring all ready to go, and he had tissues ready for when Pepper inevitably cried. He hates Greenland because he was looking forward to seeing everyone else’s faces when they heard that he and Pepper were engaged and he was looking forward to Pepper showing the ring off at breakfast while Tony sat with one arm across the back of her chair and smiled at her. 

He _hates_ Greenland.

Darcy and Clint are staring at him.

“Did I say all of that out loud?” he asks.

“Yes,” Darcy says. She’s still staring at him. “You were going to propose?” 

“You’re my PA, didn’t you know this, I mean, aren’t you supposed to track all my movements or something?” Tony asks.

“That doesn’t mean I know everything about your life, Tony,” she says. “Wait is that why you disappeared for a couple hours on Friday?”

He nods.

“Wait,” Clint holds his hands up. “Can we back up to the part where you said you were going to propose?”

“If you say anything to the rest of the team,” he looks them back and forth, “I will end you. Seriously. End. You.”

“I’d like to see you try, Stark,” Clint laughs. 

“Look,” Darcy says suddenly, pointing up at the sky. A jet is coming towards them at full speed.

“I think that’s our team,” Tony says, shielding his eyes to look up.

“I hope Bruce brought my iPod,” Darcy mutters, and sinks down to sit until they arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's not ending yet, we've still got a plot twist coming up.


	6. A happy reunion .... sort of

“There’s something in front of them,” Clint says, shielding his eyes from the sun and looking up. 

“What is it?” Tony asks.

Clint just grins in response, and Tony squints to try and see.

The little blur takes shape after a while and Tony starts jumping up and down, waving his arms. 

“Rhodey! Rhodey!” he squeals, and when the War Machine lands in front of them Tony runs forward, throwing his arms around the hulk of metal.

Rhodey flips his face plate up, grinning down at the smaller man who is still hanging off of him.

“All right there, Stark?” he asks.

“I’m so happy to see you I could cry,” Tony mutters, letting go of him and backing up two steps.

“Alright, but please, don’t kiss me,” Rhodey says, with a disgusted look on his face. 

Tony just laughs.

“Are you guys alright?” Rhodey asks.

“Just freezing,” Darcy answers tiredly, tucking her knees underneath her chin from her spot on the sand.

“It’s good to see you,” Clint says in way of answer. 

Thor drops out of the sky next to Rhodey.

“Friends!” he exclaims, scooping up Tony, who is closest in a bear hug. “I am glad you are safe,” he tells them solemnly, clapping Clint on the back. “Lady Darcy, are you injured?” Thor asks. He crouches down beside her.

“No,” she answers. Her teeth are chatter as she speaks, “I’m jjjjusttt rrrealy coldddd,” she answers.

Thor scoops her up in his arms, holding her bridal style.

Her limbs flail as her gravity shifts and then she just tucks her feet in closer and curls up into him.

The jet lands several hundreds of feet away from them, and the ramp lowers to the ground slowly.

Natasha is the first one on the ground, walking briskly towards them. Bruce is close behind, his eyes already locked onto Darcy. Steve is next, holding his shield and looking around for threats already. Coulson is last, and a little bit behind the others.

“Thor, could you put me down?” Darcy asks politely.

“Of course,” Thor answers and lowers her feet to the sand.

She takes a moment to take her bearings and then sets off towards Bruce, who hurries to get to her, passing up Natasha on his way. When she reaches him she throws her arms around his neck, and he holds her close. He jumps when she presses her cold nose into his neck. 

Natasha strides right up to Clint, and stands there, staring at him.

Tony is staring at them unashamed, as is Rhodey. Bruce whispers something in Darcy’s ear and she lets go, turning around in his arms to watch the confrontation. Steve tries to look like he’s very interested in the ground, but it doesn’t work, and Coulson is just staring, his face impassive as always.

“I would really appreciate it if you would stop getting kidnapped,” Natasha says quietly, her words almost whisked away by the wind.

“It’s not something I can actually control,” Clint answers.

Natasha punches him.

Clint reels backwards, putting his hand up to his jaw and spitting on the sand. “Jesus, Nat,” he says.

“Punch him again,” Tony suggests casually, and Natasha whirls on him.

Tony backs up abruptly, bumping into Rhodey.

“Don’t even get me started on you,” Natasha growls. “Can’t you stay out of trouble for two seconds, Stark? God, I swear, you’re like a two year old who can’t stay out of the deep end.”

“Suddenly this is all my fault?” Tony asks. “I’m curious, how does everything always get blamed on me?”

“Because it’s your fault?” Darcy says, smirking a little bit. “We wouldn’t have gotten kidnapped if you weren’t such a genius.”

“Right, I’m sorry, I’ll just turn off my brain, apparently that would make life easier for everyone.” Tony turns on his heel and starts stalking off to the jet. 

Steve follows after him, motioning for Rhodey to stay behind.

“Tony,” Steve calls softly, putting a hand on the other man’s shoulder.

Tony flicks it off without a second thought, continuing on into the jet. Steve hesitates, looking back at the rest of the team, who have all moved forward to gather around Clint for some reason.

Steve follows Tony into the jet. “Tony, you know they don’t think that, they were joking.”

Tony starts stripping his jacket off, flinging it across the jet and ruffling through the duffel bags until he finds the ones that contain his clothes. He starts shucking off layers. “Really, Steve? Because it doesn’t feel like it.” He starts to unbutton his dress shirt, “It feels like grade school when I was fifty times smarter than the other kids, when I understood how electrons functioned in sixth grade and quantum physics by middle school. It feels like the times when dad gave me no recognition despite being the smartest kid at my age in the country. It is _not my fault_ that I was given my brain and that I know how to use it.” He’s pulled on jeans and a T-shirt now, and pulling out a sweatshirt from the duffel bag, pulling it over his head, he falls silent, even though it sounded like he was going to say more.

Steve sits down on a bench. “Of course it’s not your fault, Tony, it’s not anyone’s fault that we turned out the way we did. Do you think Natasha chose to be brainwashed, or that Clint chose to be orphaned and end up in the circus? Darcy certainly didn’t chose to be here. Bruce didn’t choose to be the Hulk. But we do what we can with it. That’s what being a soldier means, dealing with the tools you are given.”

“I’ve told you before Cap, and I’ll tell you again, we are not soldiers.” Tony doesn’t look at him while he says it, he’s staring at the wall, his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt.

The rest of the team stomps up the ramp at that point. Natasha is manhandling Clint, and she shoves him down on the bench.

Coulson quietly gets the med kit.

“You idiot,” Natasha hisses, “you should have told someone.”

“Told someone what?” Tony asks, bouncing back to normal in a heartbeat.

“He’s injured.”

“What?” Steve stands up and walks over.

Tony sighs. “You bastard,” he says. “When did it happen, the guard? It was the guard wasn’t it?”

Clint nods. “While I was throwing the pen, he got me with a knife.” 

Darcy reaches out and slaps Clint upside the head.

“Can people just stop hitting me?” he exclaims.

“Stop being so stupid then,” Darcy answers.

“Goddammit, Darcy a thank you would be nice, since I did it while saving your life.” Clint turns back to Natasha, who is pouring alcohol over the cut.

“Thank you,” Darcy says stiffly, and then grabs his face in her hand, pulling him to face her. “Next time you get injured saving someone’s life, _tell someone_ you’re injured you asshole, how do you think I would have felt if you’d died because you were too stubborn to tell us you were bleeding out?”

Clint’s hand reaches up to rub absentmindedly at his chest just over his heart.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“Damn right,” Darcy says, turning away and grabbing her bag. She heads to the back of the jet to change in the bathroom.

Natasha pulls Clint’s hand away from his chest and puts it back in his lap gently. “He doesn’t have you,” she says quietly. 

“How do you know?” Clint asks. “Sometimes it feels like he’s in my head again...” his voice drifts off.

She sticks a needle into his skin, sewing the cut up. “Sometimes it feels like that,” she says to him. “Sometimes it feels like they’re still there, just choose something to focus on, think it through.”

Clint takes a deep breath, letting his head hit the wall behind him as he breathes deeply.

Natasha ties off the knot, “You’re done.” 

“I’m gonna fly,” Clint says, standing up, “You want to join?”

Natasha nods and they make their way to the cockpit together.

Coulson nods to them as they pass and Natasha lays her hand on his shoulder, a silent thanks.

He looks out over the rest of the team, Darcy is just emerging from the bathroom, her headphones already in her ears. She’s nodding along to the music. She sits next to Bruce, leaning against him.

Tony is sitting, telling Steve, Thor and Rhodey how they were kidnapped. Phil is listening closely, of course, already formulating the report that he’s going to have to write up for this whole fiasco.  

How this group of people manages to generate so much paperwork, he’ll never know. 

The jet lifts off the ground, and Darcy says something that makes Bruce laugh. Maybe they’ll have a moment of peace before they have to start tracking down Loki again. 

The thought almost makes Coulson laugh.

“What I don’t understand is why Loki thought _I_ could build an Einstein-Rosen bridge. I mean, that would take a life time of study,” Tony stands up and starts pacing.

“Well, you’re a genius,” Steve offers.

“A pretty stupid one,” Rhodey mutters.

Tony scowls at him. Then his face pales and he shoves his hand into his pocket, “Phone,” he mutters and snaps his fingers at Steve. “I need your phone.”

Steve hands him his Starkphone and Tony presses several buttons on it. From what Coulson can see he’s hacking into SHEILD again.

“Stark,” he starts.

“You can’t see it!” Tony says, “which means it didn’t happen.” There’s a beat of silence and then Tony says, “Shit,” and put the phone to his ear.

 *   *   *

Pepper dives for the phone when it rings. “Hello?” she asks.

“Pepper?” Tony’s voice is on the other end of the line, and Pepper grips the phone as tight as she can. 

“Tony,” she answers.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m on my way home, we got out fine, it was Loki by the way,” Tony babbles.

“What happened, are you hurt? Is Darcy okay and what about Clint? How did they find you?” Pepper says at the same time.

“Yeah, they’re all fine, and they tracked the arc reactor, but that’s not important-”

“It’s not important, how is that not important?” Pepper asks.

“Pepper, I need you to do me a favor,” Tony says, and his voice is more serious than she’s heard it in a long time.

“What?” Pepper asks.

“I need you to find out where Jane is.”

 *   *   * 

Jane stretches out in her chair. A spread of computer screens is in front of her. She lowers the phone from her ear, Bruce’s promise still ringing in her ear. 

They’ll come home safe, she thinks. They have to be safe.

“Nice work,” Fury says from behind her, laying a hand on her shoulder and then walking away. 

She has to admit, it was pretty impressive, especially since she wasn’t a very computer-y person.

“I’m going home,” she mutters.

She hides a yawn behind her hand and stands up, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She hasn’t slept in twenty-four hours, and she’s starting to feel it. She has no idea how Tony can work in his workshop for days at a time. Although, he does have a couch in there. Maybe she should get a couch in her lab.

She has a room in SHEILD headquarters still, but she really wants _her_ bed, at Stark Tower- or Avenger’s tower-whatever.

Jane walks out of headquarters, thinking that she definitely needs to go home to be with Pepper in case something crazy happens. 

She hails a cab and climbs in. “Stark Tower,” she tells the driver and settles back into the seat, fighting to keep her eyes open until she gets home.

The cab driver takes the first right.

“It’s the other way,” Jane says, leaning forward.

“I’m quite aware,” the driver says back. He has a crisp English accent, a voice that would be well suited to Shakespearean plays.

“Who are you?” Jane asks, her brain leaping to terrible conclusions immediately.

“I am Loki,” he says, and he turns. She remembers his profile from the distant shots on the footage on the day of the Battle of Manhattan, and Thor described him once. 

His hair is longer.

“I guess it’s about time I met my boyfriend’s family,” Jane sighs.

“I thought so too,” Loki smile is predatory. It sends shivers up her spine. “In fact, I thought it was about time we went on a little outing together.”

“I’d rather not,” Jane says. Her hand is on the handle when suddenly a second Loki appears in the seat next to her, tugging her to the middle of the seat. A third god of mischief appears on her right.

“No escaping,” the one in the driver’s seat says. “That would be rude. You don’t want to make a bad first impression, do you?”

 *   *   *

“Loki is a fool if he thinks he can get away with this,” Thor says. His hand his gripping tightly at the handle of Mjolnir. 

His anger is simmering just underneath the surface, but he’s not letting it control him. That didn’t work out very well last time. 

Tony is watching him closely with the phone still to his ear. Peppers voice is coming from the other end of it. Even now, she sounds cool and collected.

Steve stands up and walks to the cockpit, “Clint,” he says, “As fast as you can please, we think Jane is missing.”

Clint nods, “Will do, Cap.”

Steve ducks back into the main body of the jet to Tony hanging up the phone.

“She never came home. She should have been back at the tower at the latest an hour ago, and she never showed.” Tony give Steve his phone back. “She’s not at SHEILD. I checked. Loki’s the only explanation.”

“How do we find them?” Thor asks.

Tony shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Steve turns, “Coulson, if you could alert Director Fury of our situation and see if he can do anything about finding Ms. Foster.”

Coulson nods and pulls his phone out. 

“Thor, I know you’re angry, but there’s nothing we can do right now, we’ll have to wait.”

Darcy is sitting rigidly, her iPod on the bench next to her, forgotten.

Bruce has an arm around her. 

“We’ll find her,” he says quietly. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried,” she snaps and takes a deep breath. “Oh God, Bruce,” she buries her face in his chest and he pulls her close and runs his fingers through her hair. 

He presses his lips to her hair. “It’ll be fine.”

“Please,” she says, “Stop saying things you don’t know are true.”

A couple feet away from them, Rhodey is hanging up his own phone. “Yes sir, I’m on my way.” He turns to face the rest of them.”I’m sorry to leave you when you’re still missing a member of your team, but L.A. is under attack. I’m supposed to leave immediately.”

“Do you need any help?” Steve asks, immediately worried.

“The army and I should be able to handle it. Just a routine terrorist attack.”

“You go be Jack Bauer,” Tony says, flapping his hands at Rhodey. “We’ll stop the possible alien attack.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Bruce answers. “You have to do what you have to do.”

Coulson hangs up his phone. “She got into a cab, they’re tracing it’s movements now.”

Thor’s grip on Mjolnir shifts again. “Can’t we go any faster?” he asks.

Natasha emerges from the cockpit, “No, we can’t,” she answers, “And if you could stop summon lightening around the jet that would be helpful, Clint’s getting nervous.”

“Sorry,” Thor mutters. He moves to go sit next to Darcy.

She snatches her iPod out of the way just in time. 

She has a feeling it’s going to be too long of a trip back to New York.


	7. Cookies and Coffee

“I think we can track her,” Tony says, staring into space.

Thor looks up quickly. “How?” he asks urgently. 

“Well, when you all moved in I put trackers on you,” Tony says, still saying the words like they were in another dimension from his brain.

“You did WHAT?” Darcy shrieks. 

Bruce puts a comforting arm around her. 

“It was Coulson’s idea,” Tony mutters. “And Natasha actually planted them.”

“Stark, do not bring me into this, it was an order from Fury.” Natasha says, appearing from the cockpit for the second time during the trip. Her mouth was a thin as it would go.

“We hadn’t worked out the glitches,” Tony mumbles. “JARVIS and I were working on it before-” he trails off.

“Before you were taken off,” Natasha finishes.

“Can you make it work?” Thor asks.

“Maybe-” Tony says distantly. 

Coulson stands up with a sigh and stands in front of Tony, his arms crossed and his foot tapping. 

“Stark,” he says in his soft voice, “How long?”

Tony’s eyes refocus and he looks up at Phil. “Maybe a day,” he says. “If we’re lucky.” He goes back to staring at the wall.

Steve can almost see the numbers running through Tony’s head, the calculations that he’s making as he tries to work out the bugs.

“We have an hour before we land,” Natasha says.

Tony nods, standing up and pulling his Iron Man briefcase out. “I’ll fly back to the tower alone, start on the calculations with JARVIS.”

He steps into the briefcase, and they all watch as the armor unfolds, encasing his body.

“I don’t think you should go alone,” Steve says.

“Well, there’s not really room for anyone else in here,” Tony quips. It falls flat in the tense mood.

“Thor?” Steve asks. “Can you go with him?”

The god nods, “I will accompany him,” he promises.

The back of the jet opens up and Tony runs out, Thor following close behind. 

Natasha walks back into the cockpit. “Tony and Thor are flying ahead,” she says as she watches the two red figures shoot through the air. The thunderclouds go with them.

“Thank Thor,” Clint says with a wry twist of his mouth. “I was beginning to think that we’d all be fried by lightening.”

Natasha settles into the chair next to him, curling up the way a cat might.

“So,” she says.

“So,” he answers.

“When all this is over we’re going to go on a vacation,” she says. “Somewhere nice. Where we haven’t had a mission before.”

Clint snorts. “Do you have someplace in mind?” he asks.

“I was thinking Chile.”

Clint tilts his head to the side, thinking about it. “I think that would be good,” he eventually says. “But we’ll have to plan it around the wedding.”

Natasha raises a slim eyebrow.

Clint grins. “Stark let it slip that he was planning on proposing to Pepper this weekend.”

Both of Natasha’s eyebrows go up. “Really.”

“Really,” Clint confirms, looking over at her. She doesn’t seem nearly as impressed as she ought to. “Did you know already?” he accuses her.

She shrugs. “Pepper and I talk.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I knew you would make fun of him,” Natasha says. “And it’s much more fun to watch him be all flustered trying to get everything together.”

Clint steals a side glance at her. “You are a cruel, cruel woman, Natasha.”

“That’s what everyone tells me,” she quips back, readjusting her limbs.

Clint reaches out and rests a hand on her shoulder for half a second before returning to flying, and that settles her enough to allow a corner of her mouth twitch upwards.

*   *   * 

Tony lands on the top of the Avengers tower and walks in, the suit being taken off by his robots and being stored. 

Pepper is standing in the kitchen, watching him walk in. As soon as he opens the door, she starts walking towards him.

She doesn’t waste time on greetings or histrionics. “I didn’t touch anything in your lab,” she says before he can ask. “JARVIS says he’s already running the trace, and SHEILD is on the line, they say they went south, if that helps any.”

“Not really,” Tony mutters, walking towards the elevator. 

Thor walks in behind him.

“I’m gonna start the trace, buddy,” Tony says slapping him on the arm. “Just relax, we’ll have her back in no time.”

Thor nods, making his way to the kitchen, probably to eat all the pop tarts that exist.

Tony races into the elevator as the door dings and Pepper follows him inside. “Honestly, I can’t even think of how to comfort him right now,” she says.

“Well, what do you do when I’m kidnapped?” Tony asks.

Pepper looks at him.

The elevator doors ding and Tony waltzes out, giving her a chance to ignore the question. 

“JARVIS, how are we doing?” Tony asks.

“Not well, I’m afraid,” JARVIS responds. “There are still several bugs that need to be fixed.”

“I’ll get to work on them,” Tony says, sitting at a computer. He tucks his feet up underneath him because his toes are still cold from Greenland. He wonders if they will ever feel warm again.

“Well,” Pepper says. “I guess I’ll just leave you to it then,” she starts to walk away.

“Pepper,” Tony says, swiveling in his chair to face her. The staccato beat of her steps stop. She turns around.

For a second, Tony appreciates that Pepper is just so ... Pepper. Everyone she lives with had either been kidnapped or rescuing said kidnapped people. She had to have been stressed out of her mind- but she was still wearing a pencil skirt, a blue button down shirt and heels. Her hair was swept up in a bun, and honestly, shouldn’t she be in a sweatshirt and boxer shorts? 

“Marry me?” Tony asks, and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I mean, the ring’s upstairs, and I didn’t really plan on asking like this, but I was just kidnapped and I might be killed later this week, so I figure I gotta do it while I still can.”

He looks at her calmly.

“Tony,” she says smoothly, “I will marry you, but don’t think for one second that you’re going to get out of asking me on bended knee with a ring in your hand. That still has to happen.”

Tony mock-salutes her. “Yes ma’am,” he says grinning.

She starts to turn away, but hesitates, as if hovering on the edge of coming over to kiss him or not. A smile graces her lips and she walks out the door.

Tony turns back to the search, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

 *   *   *

“I need to sleep,” Darcy mutters, resting her head against Bruce’s shoulder as the jet lands.

“I hope you don’t mind if I’m in the same room when you do,” Bruce answers. “Cause I’m not leaving you alone just yet.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Darcy answers.

And that’s how they end up tangled together in Darcy’s bed for four hours. 

She sleeps with her ear just below his heart, and he lies awake, trying, above all, not to think.

“Mr. Banner, Ms. Lewis, Mr Stark requests you presence in the living room. He says it’s urgent.”

Darcy raises her head, blinking slowly. “I don’t want to get up,” she mutters.

“It could be about Jane,” Bruce says. 

Darcy frowns at him and rolls out of bed and lands on both feet in one sinuous movement. She pulls her hair back into a ponytail and makes it to the door. 

They ride the elevator up in silence, Darcy leans on Bruce the entire way.

The elevator door dings and Tony races towards it. “Thank god, you’re here,” he exclaims, pulling Darcy out of the elevator and pushing her towards the kitchen. “We need chocolate,” he informs her. “Stat. And you,” he points at Bruce. You’re in charge of coffee and tea.”

“What?” Bruce asks, as Tony pushes him into the kitchen. 

“We need fuel!” Tony snaps at them. “This is a very big meeting!” 

Natasha shows up a little while later, sitting on the back of the couch with her feet placed on the cushions.

Clint shows up and clambers up onto the top of the bookcase, sitting with his feet dangling over the edge. 

Occasionally he pulls out a piece of paper and scribbles something on it, wads it up into a ball and then flicks it at Natasha.

She opens them and smirks every time.

Pepper shows up and sits in the chair gracefully, crossing her legs and working on something on her Starkpad while she waits.

“Have you found Jane, Tony?” Darcy asks as she scoops out cookie dough onto a baking sheet.

“What?” Tony looks up from shuffling fifty pieces of paper around and the focuses on Darcy. “Oh, no, that’ll take at least a day. Honestly, I know I’m good but you guys expect miracles. We should have it around midnight.”

Darcy checks her watch, her nap threw everything slightly off for her. It’s nine in the morning.

She sighs.

Bruce takes coffee over to Natasha, “I spiked it,” he tells her.

“Thank you,” she smiles at him. 

He hands black coffee to Tony, who starts guzzling it almost immediately. Bruce rolls his eyes. He hand some sort of exotic tea to Pepper. He got her hooked on it about a month ago. He hands coffee with milk and two sugars up to Clint, who reaches down to grab it, muttering, “Thanks.”

Clint immediately scribbles something and throws the wad to Natasha. She reads it and a small smile graces her face. 

Thor emerges from the dining room and sits down on the ground with a heavy sigh. “I need ale,” he mutters, and Bruce places some sort of liquor in front of him.

“I thought you might,” he mutters. 

“Have you found Jane?” Thor asks Tony hopefully.

Tony looks up at him sadly. “Not yet, soon I hope,” he says softly.

Coulson sits on the couch next to Natasha, and he receives a wad of paper as well.

He sends Clint a dark look, and Natasha laughs. 

Tony looks up at them, narrowing his eyes.

Bruce brings Coulson his coffee too, and then fixes up two cups for Darcy and himself. 

Darcy accepts hers with a grateful sigh, drinking it and then placing it on the little table by the couch before collapsing on the ground. 

Bruce takes the last chair.

“Tony, what the hell is this about? And why did you have to drag me out of bed?” Darcy asks, her words muffled by the carpet. She peeks up at him.

Pepper looks up, placing her Starkpad to the side. “I think you’re missing the big question Darcy,” she says before Tony can answer.

“What is the big question?” Thor asks.

“Where is Steve?” Clint asks from the top of the bookcase.

Tony snaps his fingers and points at him. “That’s it,” he says and finally looks up from the papers that he’s pouring over. “This is operation: Steve Needs A Girlfriend.”

Darcy sits up. “Are you shitting me right now?” she asks. “My best friend is kidnapped right now, and you’re having a meeting about Steve’s love life?”

Everyone freezes. Darcy doesn’t get angry very often, and when she does it’s generally explosive. 

“Yes.” Tony says nodding his head once and looking incredibly pleased with himself.

“You are such an idiot,” Darcy says, and flops back onto the carpet. “We clearly need Jane for this. I have no idea how you expect to succeed without her.”

Bruce’s mouth twitches into a smile. 

Clint throws another piece of paper at Natasha. She untangles it with her fingers and smirks again.

Tony is eyeing her and Clint suspiciously. 

“Where is Steve at?” Pepper asks.

“The museum, he goes there when he’s stressed,” Natasha answers and everyone turns to look at her.

She looks back innocently.

Darcy reaches out her hand and makes grabbing motions with it. Thor hands her her coffee silently. “Thank you,” she mutters and sits up, sipping at it slowly.

The timer goes off. Darcy starts to struggle to her feet, but Pepper stands up. “I’ve got it,” she says, holding out a hand to keep Darcy from standing up.

“Thanks, Pep,” Darcy says gratefully, huddling into Bruce’s legs.

“I don’t want to be involved in this conversation anyways,” Pepper mutters as she steps over Thor on her way to the kitchen.

Tony frowns after her. “Anyway, we need to scope this girl out, figure out who she is.”

“I ran a background check,” Coulson offers, placing his coffee on the table next to him. 

Bruce starts to run his fingers through Darcy’s hair absently, and she leans back into it. 

“What did you turn up?” Clint asks eagerly, the first time he’s spoken all meeting. “Is she a terrorist? Secret assassin? Natasha’s cousin?”

Natasha causally throws a knife at him. He dodges it easily, and it lands in the wall behind him.

“Nat,” he complains.

She shrugs at him unapologetically. 

“I’m going to have to fix that now,” Tony sighs.

“Don’t lie,” Bruce says. “You’ll ask Steve to do it and he’ll spend hours making sure it’s perfect.”

Tony shrugs, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “Maybe,” he allows. “Now, Coulson, report.”

Coulson’s eyebrows raise up slightly at the command, but he follows it anyway. “She’s very normal. Grew up in Brooklyn, graduated from high school with top honors, is in her last year of her Master’s degree in Elementary Education. She works at the cafe on weekends only, to give her extra cash, she teaches a second grade class, and completes her degree with class at night.”

Even Tony’s eyebrows raise at the amount of work that Meg was doing.

“She has no known terrorist affiliations.” He shrugs. “She’s clean.”

“How depressing,” Tony says, tapping his fingers against his leg.

Pepper comes back in with a plate of cookies that she hands to Clint. He starts tossing them out like frisbees, two for Tony, one for Darcy, four for Thor, Pepper doesn’t want any, Coulson wants one, Natasha takes two and Bruce gets one. Clint takes the last cookie and starts munching on it while scribbling another note for Natasha.

“Yup,” is all she responds. 

“What are you talking about?” Tony asks suspiciously.

“None of your business, Stark,” Natasha says smoothly. She tucks the slips of paper into her bra, and it takes deadly look and an amazing amount self-control for Tony to refrain from commenting. 

“Can we get back on track here?” Bruce asks mildly. “I’m not really sure why we’re here,” he admits.

“We have to figure out who this girl is,” Tony insists.

Pepper rolls her eyes. “Why don’t you just ask her to come to dinner?” she asks.

Clint looks up alarmed, “With us?”

“No, with the Dread Pirate Roberts,” Darcy says sarcastically. “Of course with us!” 

“But don’t you think that will ... scar her for life?” Bruce asks. 

Tony is smirking. “We’ll do it,” he says. “After we find Jane.”

“What are we doing after we find Jane?” Steve’s voice comes from around the corner, and he emerges, wearing plaid and his hands are stuck in the pockets of his jeans.

Pepper can almost see Tony start to panic and come up with a terrible lie which wouldn’t fool anyone else, but Steve is so damn trusting that it might just work on him.

“We want Meg to come to dinner,” Pepper says, standing up and pulling her skirt down. “If that’s alright with you.”

“Oh,” Steve says, taken aback. “Um, sure.”

“Great, it’s settled then. I have to go back to work,” Pepper turns and walks to the elevator. 

“Come on, Clint, let’s spar,” Natasha says, sliding off the back of the couch in an elegant motion. 

Clint jumps down from the bookcase, rolling to break his fall and springing back up onto his feet at the end. They waltz to the stairs, racing each other down. 

“Not fair, you can’t jump!” they hear Clint yell.

“Sore loser!” Natasha yells back.

Tony stands up from his spot underneath the T.V. and then pauses in front of Steve before he leaves the room. “Natasha threw a knife,” he says, pointing to the slit in the wall above the bookcase. “Think you can fix that?” he asks.

Steve squints up at it. “Yeah, I can do that,” he answers.

Darcy stands up. “I’ll bake you more cookies,” she says, and trudges back to the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me a while to post this chapter, I'm swamped with schoolwork. (Ugh. How needs school anyway?) I had a midterm next week and three this week, so you'll either get nothing this next week or a chapter or two of stress-writing. We'll see how it goes. :) Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	8. Waiting

“Thor?” Darcy calls, stepping off the elevator hesitantly.

She was the elected one to make sure that Thor was okay, of course. She didn’t want to do it, she wanted to crawl back into bed and press her nose into Bruce’s neck and fall asleep.

But she did it for Jane. Plus, she figures she kinda owes the guy after all they’ve been through together.

She finds the god in the living room of his apartment that he shares with Jane. He is standing at the window, looking out.

“It is my fault,” Thor says, turning slightly to look at Darcy.

“Of course it’s not,” she says automatically.

“I was in charge of Loki’s prison, it is my fault he escaped. If I had paid attention then he never would have come to Earth, and he wouldn’t have kidnapped Jane,” Thor turns back to the window looking out. “And now we don’t even know where she is.”

His fingers flex, like he’s itching to have Mjolnir in his hand and start smashing things.

Darcy thinks, for one second, that her life would be so much easier if she lived with people who had less anger issues. And then she half smiles as she thinks of Bruce and the moment is gone.

“Tony will find her,” Darcy says, moving to the window to look out at the skyline with him. “He’s good at that sort of thing, and you know Jane, she’ll being giving Loki hell if he even touches her notes.”

The corner of Thor’s mouth twitches upwards. 

“You remember how she was in New Mexico, she couldn’t stop going on and on about her research and how Coulson took it, when we all know that my iPod was the real theft.”

Thor frowns, “I don’t thin-”

Darcy sighs loudly, cutting him off. “It was a joke, Thor, it was supposed to make you smile.”

Thor tries to grin for her, but it comes out as more of a grimace.

Darcy laughs at him. “Well, thanks for trying,” she says.

He nods uncertainly at her and they stand in silence for a while. “I am worried,” he finally admits. “I am worried that Loki kidnapped her just to spite me.”

“He won’t do anything to her,” Darcy says confidently.

“You can’t know that,” Thor says quietly- or at least, quietly for him.

“Loki is still your brother,” Darcy says, and turns around so that she can sit on the windowsill. “And obviously I’m not a psychologist or anything, but I think that he still loves you, and I think that half the reason he orchestrated the Invasion of Manhattan is because he was under the spear’s influence. I don’t think he really wants to kill anyone.”

“Then why is he trying to create a portal that will sustain another army?” Thor asks miserably.

“I don’t know,” Darcy admits. “It’s a working theory.” She hops off of the windowsill. “Come on,” she says, “Bruce is making dinner.”

Thor face brightens considerable. He loves it when Bruce cooks, because it’s full of different spices. He says Midgardian food is generally tasteless.

So they go up to the communal floor, where Natasha has Clint in a choke hold and Coulson is watching from the couch, while working on paperwork. Pepper is sitting chatting with Steve at the counter.

“We just need someone that can design some good logos for us, and I think you’d be the perfect person for that, if you're up for it. It would give you something to do when you’re not on a mission.” Pepper refills Steve’s drink.

“I think I’d like that,” Steve tells her. “It would give me a sense of purpose in between missions.”

Bruce greets Darcy with a kiss, and she starts helping him cook.

Thor takes a seat next to Steve, and they start to talk in low tones. 

“Where’s Tony?” Darcy asks Pepper.

“He’s holed up in his workshop, trying to find Jane faster. I’ll take him a plate when dinner’s over.”

Darcy nods and rings the bell signifying that the food is ready. _Dinner Bell_ by They Might Be Giants starts playing over the speakers.

There’s a clamor as Clint vaults over the back of the couch to sit at the dinner table first.

 *   *   *

A couple hours later Bruce finds Clint on the roof. He sits down next to the archer. Clint turns to look at him, and says, “I was expecting Natasha.”

Bruce shrugs. “I hope you’re not too disappointed,” he answers with a tilted self-depreciating smile.

“Not really, doc, you’re good company.”

Bruce nods his thanks. “I was told that I am supposed to yell at you for not telling us you were injured.” 

Clint shakes his head slightly.

“Natasha’s orders,” Bruce admits. “But honestly, tell us next time.”

“I did,” Clint snaps. “I told Nat when I saw her, I couldn’t tell Tony or Darcy because they would have insisted that we stop, and we didn’t have that kind of time. I made a strategic decision.”

Bruce nods. “I guess,” he answers.

Clint scowls out at the sky.

“But you could have told us you were still upset about Loki,” Bruce says. “I don’t know if you’ve talked about it with Natasha, you two are pretty tight-lipped, but as far as I know you’re still pretty paranoid that he’s controlling you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Clint doesn’t even look round.

“But you need to,” Bruce presses. “I know I did, when I first turned into the Hulk. And I didn’t really get to talk about it until years later, when Darcy started asking me questions.” Bruce pauses.

Clint still doesn’t say anything. He wants to start screaming at Bruce, that he has no idea what it’s like, but, of course, of all the Avengers, he has the best insight to this problem.

“You can’t remember what you do as the Hulk,” Clint says. “I remember what I did under Loki’s direction. I killed people who didn’t need to die. I killed _agents._ I had a key role in planning the subterfuge of the helicarrier, some of my friends died in that attack.” Clint rubs his hands together and looks away from Bruce.

“I smashed Harlem, people died. Sometimes people die,” Bruce’s soft low voice give the words another layer of meaning. 

“But I don’t always cause their deaths,” Clint stands up, sending a spray of gravel into the air.

Bruce reaches down, fingering one of the rocks as he listens to Clint.

“Everyday, every mission that I’m on I make a decisions, and then I have to think through it, wondering if it’s just residual influence from Loki or if that really is the right move to make, if that’s the strategic move on the board. It’s cost me precious time on assignments that should have been simpler. Hell, Bruce, I _shot Natasha_ in our bedroom.” Clint turns around and glares at the older man. “Knowing that your brain isn’t entirely your own is ...” He pauses looking out over the sky line and grabbing his hair, trying to pull it out by it’s roots. “It’s hell.”

“I know,” Bruce answers quietly.

Clint turns back. “How do you handle it?”

“The Hulk... he’s a part of me,” Bruce answers. “For better or for worse, but I’m using my _condition_ ,” he says the word delicately, “for good. It’s a terrible privilege.” He smirks like he’s sharing an inside joke with himself.

“I remember exactly what it felt like to want to kill Tasha. My own partner,” Clint admits. “That’s what bothers me, more than anything else.”

Bruce stands up. “Clint,” he says. “You shot her in the shoulder, you could have hit her in the heart.”

“Are you saying that I knew it was a dream?” Clint asks.

“I’m saying that some part of you knows what’s real, and knows what’s important, that’s all.” Bruce wipes his hands off on his jeans, a couple pieces of gravel that were stuck in the indents of his hands fall away. He turns back to the door, ducking through it shyly.

Clint stares after him. 

 *   *   *

Steve walks into the workout room to blow off some steam. 

Apparently Natasha had the same plan, because she’s pounding away at a punching bag, her hair sticking to her forehead with sweat and she’s breathing heavily.

“Wanna spar?” Steve offers, and she turns, wiping her hair out of her eyes.

“If you think you can keep up,” she returns, grinning and stripping her boxing gloves off.

“I’ll give it a go.” Steve’s strong, but he’s not as fast as Natasha, and she has a lot more tricks up her sleeve.

They wrestle back and forth for a while, and Natasha has him pinned down a couple of times, but he always gets out of it. 

They go until they’ve worked up a nice sweat and then Natasha rolls away from him, coming up onto her feet and they start circling each other.

“Can I give you some advice, Cap?” Natasha asks.

“About what?” Steve asks.

“Don’t listen to anything Darcy says regarding your girlfriend.”

Steve wasn’t expecting that at all, but he doesn’t let it phase him, just keeps circling.

“Why’s that?”

“Don’t listen to Tony or Clint either. Go to Pepper.”

“Not you?”

Steve moves forward towards her, she flips back onto her hands and locks her thighs around his neck, executing her signature move.

“I’m not much for romance,” she says when he’s on the floor and she’s standing above him.

He sweeps her legs out from under her and rolls on top of her, nestling his forearm right underneath her chin.

She looks up at him with a grin.

“I don’t really think I’m looking for advice,” he admits.

“You will be,” Natasha warns him. “Girls are confusing, you’ll need advice sooner than you think.”

“I’ve only been on one date with her, we aren’t going steady or anything.”

Natasha leverages herself so that she’s rolling on top of him and he’s lost the advantage.

When they pause again, she’s perched on top of his back, as his face presses against the mat. She has his arm twisted up his back.

“You’ll be going steady soon enough, she won’t be able to resist a baby face like yours for long.”

“Why is it that everyone is so eager to comment on Meg and I? You’re the third person to say something about it today. I’d expect it from Tony, or Clint, but why is Thor asking questions?”

Steve yanks his arm out of her grip and she slides off of him, recognizing it’s safer to be at arms distance now. They’re back to circling again.

This time, when Natasha launches into the air Steve ducks under her body and yanks her down, slamming her against the mat, knocking the wind out of her.

“Are you okay? he asks, instantly worried, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Natasha rolls her eyes. “I’m fine, Cap,” and then she has him on the ground, in a choke hold and he surrenders.

They shake hands at the end of the fight. 

“So really, what’s with all the curiosity about my relationship or lack thereof?”

Natasha cringes, but she figures she owes it to Steve to tell him. “Tony may or may not have had a meeting discussing the ways we can get you and Meg to,” she makes quotes with her fingers, “‘go steady.’”

Steve stares at her for a moment. “Of course he did,” he finally answers.

Natasha shrugs. “If you don’t tell them I told you we could have some fun with it,” she suggests.

Steve grins just slightly. “I may just take you up on that.”

Clint comes into the room then, carrying his bow and he starts slamming arrows into the targets at the end of the room.

Of course, the targets move, thanks to Tony and his desire to make a room that challenged them all.

Natasha goes over to talk to Clint, and manages to make him stop shooting for half a second so that he’ll respond seriously.

Steve decides that he doesn’t want to get involved with the conversation and slips out of the room. He decides that some hot chocolate would be good right about now.

 *   *   *

Tony is running so fast that when he bursts into the kitchen he skids for several more moments. It doesn’t help that he’s wearing socks and he had a lot of traction. 

“Mental note,” he says, “Sock wars when the crisis is over.” Then he runs into the counter. “Dammit,” he mutters, holding his hip bone.

Steve stands up from where’s he’s sitting at the counter. “Have you found her?”

“I’ve got the location,” Tony confirms, a grin spreading across his face. “JARVIS, tell the Avengers to assemble,” he says to the ceiling.

“Where is she? How far?” Steve asks, moving to the stairs to make his way to the roof.

Tony follows him, fingering his bracelets. “So I had to work through a few bugs, tracking algorithms, and I had it narrowed down to the Northern Hemisphere, but okay, they were only a prototype okay? They weren’t ready to work for a couple more months until I worked out the bug-”

“Tony!” Steve says loudly.

“She’s _in_ the city,” Tony yells, “Around the block!”

Steve reverses directions almost immediately, clattering back down the stairs. “JARVIS, tell everyone to meet us on the ground floor.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Tony says, moving towards the balcony.

“Tony,” Steve starts, but Stark just waves his hand and jumps off the railing, a red and gold blur racing after him.

Steve sighs and punches the button for the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankfully my week of three midterms is at an end. So you get updates!


	9. A Rescue

They’re sitting in two different cars in front of an apartment building. There’s pedestrians on the streets, passing by innocently, and Steve doesn’t think this could be a worse nightmare.

Tony is up on the roof of some building across the street, keeping low, making sure no one sees him.

“I got eyes on her,” Tony says.

Darcy, who is in the other car, says, “Is she okay? What does she look like?”

Thor leans towards the video that is streaming Tony’s visual.

Jane is sitting at a desk, writing something on a piece of paper. As they watch, Loki walks past the desk, placing a sandwich next to Jane’s elbow. She reaches out and grabs it without even thinking, starting to eat it as she continues to write.

“Let’s go,” Thor says, and reaches for the door.

Steve catches his wrist. “We need a plan first,” he reminds the god. “We don’t want to get any civilians killed.”

Thor settles down uncomfortably.

“Bruce, I think you should sit this one out,” Steve says into the mic. “We’re in a heavily populated area.”

“Understood,” Bruce’s tired voice comes back over the comms. “He probably planned it that way,” he says.

Steve secretly agrees, but he doesn’t say anything.

He turns to Natasha, “What do you think?” he asks.

She’s staring out the tinted window. “I think Iron Man should blow through the glass, and he and Thor should go through the window. I think Hawkeye should be positioned on the roof that Tony’s on so that he can cover our asses, and I think that you and I should break the door down, take out anyone that’s in our way, and then take Jane home.”

Steve tilts his head to the side, considering the plan.

“Okay,” he says, “you call the shots on this one.”

It’s an idea that they’ve been trying out for the last couple missions, giving different people the lead. Steve’s sure that he’ll be injured or out for the count at some point, so he’s been prepping the team for that scenario.

“Alright,” Natasha answers, “Hawkeye, get into position on Tony’s roof, please, make sure that you’re not seen by the main population.”

“Alright but I can’t help if the women notice my devilishly good looks though, Nat, you know how hard it is to look this good.” Clint’s voice sounds from over the comms as they see him slide out of the car in front of them. 

He has a hoodie on, with a backpack slung across his back. Headphone cords dangle out of his ears, he looks like a college student who’s used to procrastinating.

He crosses the street with his shoulders hunched and then he disappears into the building.

“Thor, step outside of the van and get ready to fly,” Natasha instructs, “but don’t move until I tell you.”

The god nods and steps out of the car.

“Do I get in on this action?” Darcy asks.

“No,” Natasha says firmly. “Stay in the car or so help me, I will kill you.” She puts a hand on the handle of her gun. “Coulson? You got our backs?” she asks.

“Affirmative, I’ll keep you updated on everyone’s positions,” he answers.

Natasha loosens up somewhat, knowing that Coulson’s on the job.

“I’m in position,” Clint says.

“I’m moving in,” Tony declares.

“Wait for us,” Natasha says. She nods to Captain America, and they fling the door open, run past the amazed bystanders who are staring and barge into the apartment building.

They sprint up the stairs up to the floor that Jane is on.

They can hear Loki’s voice through the door.

“Have you made any progress?”

“If you would stop interrupting me every five seconds then I would actually make some progress,” is Jane’s response.

Natasha exchanges a glance with Steve. He nods.

“Tony, Thor, go,” Natasha says. There’s a sound of a blast and then shattering glass.

Steve kicks the door in, and Natasha enters the room with her gun out of it’s holster and aimed at whoever she can see.

Jane is already underneath her desk with her hands clamped down over her neck, and Thor is standing in front of her, roaring at whoever comes close.

Natasha has let off three shots in the time that it has taken her to take two steps. 

There are a total of five men in the room, but she knows there will be more in the other parts of the apartment.

One of the men raises his gun, pointing it at Natasha’s forehead. An arrow goes through his throat and he drops instantly.

Two other men are down, one by Steve and Tony working together, one because Natasha shot him.

The other three have taken refuge behind the counter in the kitchen.

Tony is currently dealing with Loki, as is Steve. Thor isn’t moving from Jane.

That leaves Natasha with with the two men behind the counter.

There’s a crash as Tony sends Loki through a wall. Natasha doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t even turn around.

She trusts them to watch her back, more, she trusts Hawkeye to put an arrow through anyone that comes within a two feet radius of her.

“More men are entering the building on foot, would you like me to engage?” Coulson’s voice comes over the comms.

“Affirmative, just don’t get shot,” it feels strange for Natasha to be giving orders to her handler.

There’s a gunshot from downstairs and Natasha firmly hopes that it is not Phil’s blood on the floor.

She’s slowly advancing into the kitchen area.

A forehead peeks up over the ledge.

There’s a perfectly round bullet hole in the middle of it less than a second later.

“Don’t shoot!” a man’s voice calls out as he raises his hands, free of weapons above the counter.

Natasha keeps her gun trained on him as she rounds the corner. As she creeps closer he goes for his gun.

It’s a bad idea.

She shoots him three times. Then she backs up, moving back over to Thor and Jane.

She crouches down next to the desk. 

“Are you okay?” she asks Jane.

“Yeah, I’m peachy,” the scientist answers with a smile punctuated by dimples. “Getting kidnapped is pretty much a normal day for me.”

Natasha rolls her eyes. “I don’t even want to hear you and Darcy complain about this together.” She pulls her clip out of her gun, tossing it on the floor. It’s empty anyway.

“That’ll be fun,” Jane says.

“I’m happy to see you,” Thor tells Jane.

Jane blushes. “It’s good to see you too, Thor.”

Natasha ends the conversation by slamming a full clip into her gun. Jane and Thor look over at her.

“I’m going to scope the rest of the apartment,” she tells them.

“Hawkeye, what’s Coulson’s position?” She asks, pressing a finger to her ear.

“I’m helping him take out about ten guys,” Hawkeye answers. “He should be in the clear in a second.”

Natasha nods to herself.

She thinks that Clint will be occupied helping Phil, so she expects to be on her own for this next part. She doesn’t know where Tony and Steve went. 

She approaches the bedroom with her trigger finger resting lightly and her her eyes darting from side to side.

She tilts the door open slowly, and it immediately comes back towards her, knocking her gun out of her hand.

The man’s hands reach towards her neck, but she slips out of his grasp by darting to the right.

Natasha pulls a knife out her uniform and reaches out, snatching his collar and pulling him into the blade.

He goes down immediately.

She turns around to find another man rushing at her, but a black shafted arrow sticks out of his back at the end.

“I thought you’d left me for a second,” she says.

“Never,” and she can hear the half smile in Clint’s voice as he answers.

 *   *   *

“Would you like me to engage?” Coulson asks, hoping that Natasha will say yes. It’s been a while since he’s had a good firefight.

“Affirmative, just don’t get shot.”

Phil checks his clip and then opens the door, “Don’t get in trouble kids,” he tells Bruce and Darcy as he slams the door shut.

He cuts off Darcy’s response.

He approaches the building with a light tread and opens the door, immediately stepping in and then rolling behind the reception desk.

Shots are fired at him, which makes his ears ring, but none of them hit, fortunately.

He returns fire. There are ten men either tucked behind corners or on the staircase.

Phil takes care of the ones that are on the staircase, and the ones that stray too close to windows are taken out by black shafted arrows. But since they’re on the ground floor and Hawkeye is up at least ten stories in the air directly across the street, the angle is all wring and there’s only so much that Clint can do.

Two men run up the staircase, “Hawkeye,” Phil says, as professional as always. “There are two men proceeding up the staircase. Please take care of them.”

“With pleasure,” Clint answers.

A head emerges from the hallway, Phil hits it with a couple of bullets and then ducks down to reload his gun.

He’s got four men left.

He has to venture out from behind the desk if he’s going to end this anytime soon. 

So he decides to slide along the wall, he has his gun trained on the opposite hallway, and he shoots every time he sees movement. He hears one thud, like a body falling.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees a man round the corner, and there’s a sudden pain in his side.

He pushes the sensation out of his brain. He has better things to worry about.

He shoots, and the man falls, Phil rounds the corner, shooting another one.

There’s another flare of pain, this time in his leg. Goddammit, he’s really tired of ending up in the hospital. A set of hands reach out for his collar.

“I’ve been hit,” he says, and he tries to fight of the man that’s got a grip on him, but his head is slamming into the wall, and he’s already dizzy from blood loss. His vision narrows until it’s all black, and then his hearing fades too and then-

 *   *   *

Darcy is practically bouncing with energy. She’s chewing on her fingernails as the watch the footage.

Coulson slips out of the car. “Don’t get in trouble kids,” he says.

“Shut up,” Darcy mutters back.

“Smooth,” Bruce compliments her.

“You shut up too,” she says. Her legs are bouncing up and down. Bruce puts a hand on her knee.

“Darcy, you are not helping,” Bruce says slowly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she says. “I get upset when fictional characters get shot at Bruce, what do you think I’m going to do when it’s my friends?” She fingers her taser nervously. “I wish I could go in!”

“Absolutely not,” Bruce answers. “If you do, I will definitely hulk out and that is the last thing we need in this situation.”

“They can handle themselves anyways,” Darcy says.

“Exactly,” Bruce agrees.

And that’s when Coulson’s voice comes over the intercom. “I’ve been hit.”

“Shit!” Darcy screams. “Shtishitshitshit.”

Bruce doesn’t say anything, just grabs his medical bag and opens the door. Darcy follows, grabbing a gun on the way out. She’s practiced at the range before, she’s not a bad shot. 

“What are you doing?” Bruce asks her, looking back.

“Going with you! Haven’t you ever seen a movie, Bruce? If I stay out in the car then someone else is just going to kidnap me again, and I am not going through that traumatic experience again. I’m done with it. So I’m going with you.”

Bruce rolls his eyes, but doesn’t comment.

They walk into the lobby and Bruce doesn’t even look for any gunmen, just walks over to Coulson and pulls open his medical kit.

He starts to peel back the man’s shirt.

“Darcy, call for a med evac right now,” Bruce says calmly and Darcy complies, pulling out her phone and dialing immediately. She was forced to memorize the number the day she started working for Tony Stark, and she has never been more grateful.

She gives them the address of the the apartment building and then hangs up. She carefully avoids looking at the wound- blood has always made her a little bit queasy- and says, “How’s he doing?”

“He’ll be fine,” Bruce answers. “Not terribly serious. He was just grazed in the torso and then shot in the leg. Not life-threatening.”

“Right, just shot twice, not life-threatening,” Darcy says faintly.

“Darcy, I need you to hand me the cloth that’s in the bag.”

Darcy drops to her knees, and digs through the bag, taking out a piece of gauze and handing to Bruce.

He places it over Coulson’s leg.

“Apply pressure right here,” Bruce places Darcy’s hand on the artery and Darcy pushes down, slowing the blood flow to Phil’s leg.

She’s stares up at the ceiling and starts humming a song she likes so that she doesn’t pass out from the idea of her friend bleeding out on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Bruce asks calmly.

“Trying not to faint,” she answers quietly.

Bruce raises his eyebrows and bobs his head, like he can’t actually believe this is happening right now.

“Right, well, then don’t look while I bandage up his side then.”

“Copy that.”

 *   *   *

Tony shatters the window with pleasure. Loki has given him enough shit to deal with lately, and he just wants to kill the son of a bitch.

So yes, when he has an opportunity he blasts him through a couple walls he does. Can you blame him? He did have to walk across Greenland so that his fingers were almost frozen solid.

Steve gives him a somewhat disapproving look, and yeah, that makes Tony feel a little bit bad.

Steve steps through the Loki-shaped holes in the walls, pursuing the norse god, and Tony flies after him.

Loki is just sitting up, rubbing his head and looks up at them.

“Not even going to fight back?” Tony asks, powering up his repulsers and pointing them at Loki, the light illuminated his cheekbones and jawline.

Loki puts down his spear- a different one from his last fight, but a spear all the same- and looks up at them.

“I’m tired,” he answers.

Steve and Tony exchange a look.

“Aren’t you tired? Of saving the world and then having to save it again next week?” Loki buries his head in his hands. “I just want...” his voice trails off then, and they never learn what Loki wants.

Thor strides into the room. “Brother,” he says solemnly.

“Thor,” Loki answers, looking up and now there is fire in his eyes. He picks up his spear again and stands up. 

The moment freezes for half a second, they all stand there, frozen, waiting for someone to make the first move.

A gunshot sounds, solitary, and seemingly significant, although Tony can’t think for the life of him why.

Then Jane screams and Hawkeye is screaming over the comms. Clint never screams like this. 

“Natasha! Natasha, answer me!” He is screaming, and then he changes tactics almost in mid sentence. “Tony get your ass over to this roof in under two seconds and fly me over there, or so help me I will-”

“I’m coming,” Tony answers.

Thor drops Mjolnir on Loki’s chest, saying, “Stay.”

Steve is already moving back to the living room.

Tony shoots out through the window, moving towards Hawkeye.

 *   *   *

Clint is standing on the top of the roof. Coulson’s been shot, he knows, Bruce is on his way to him.

Hawkeye lets an arrow go, watching it as it slams into the throat of the man who’s approaching Natasha.

“I’d thought you’d left me for a second,” she says, leaning down to pick her gun up.

“Never,” he answers, as she replaces her clip again.

She walks out the door again.

Hawkeye shoots a glance over to the right, where Tony, Steve and Thor are standing over Loki.

He has an arrow on the string, and he could let it loose right now, hitting Loki in the eye.

But he doesn’t. 

That’s not his call to make, it’s quite possibly the most self control he’s had in a long time.

Movement catches his eye.

A man is standing at the doorway of the apartment. Maybe the man who shot Coulson.

Hawkeye swings his bow around again to take him out but he’s half a second too late.

He’s half a second too late because the man raises his gun and squeezes the trigger.

It feels like everything should be in slow motion, but nothing slows down. Everything is still the same speed.

Hawkeye’s arrow hits the man in the heart.

Natasha shoots him in the forehead.

Hawkeye hits him in the eye.

Natasha falls to the ground impossibly fast.

Hawkeye shoots the man in the stomach, just for good measure.

He can hear Jane’s scream from a distance. He feels like his heart is encased in metal, making it beat so much harder.

“Natasha! Natasha answer me!”

Jane doesn’t have a comm, she can’t answer him, he can’t get over there as fast as he wants to, as fast as he needs to.

“Tony get your ass over to this roof in under two seconds and fly me over there, or so help me I will-”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” a streak of red and gold comes out of the window and scoops Clint up. They make a wide arc and turn.

Tony drops him off next to Natasha who is lying on the ground.

Jane has rolled her over to her back.

Her breathing is hitching.

“Nat, I’m here, I’m here,” Clint is muttering, and he unzips her uniform, exposing her skin.

She takes in a breath that makes her body shudder. 

There’s a bullet hole right as the curve of her breast starts. Near the heart, bleeding profusely.

“Tasha, you are not going to leave me, not after everything we’ve been through.” He looks to Jane. “Get Bruce up here right now.”

She nods, Steve is suddenly kneeling next to Clint.

“What do we do?” he asks. 

Clint stands up and runs into the kitchen, coming back with rags. He presses them against the wound, trying to stem the blood flow.

Natasha’s eyes are fixed on him, unwavering.

“I bet you wish you wore kevlar now huh?” Clint says to her. “All that talk about it impeding your movement, and now-” he stops talking because his throat is closing up. 

He blinks rapidly, he needs to be able to see. Drops of water are dripping off his chin to muddle with his partners blood.

“I’m here,” Bruce says, and Steve stands up, giving Bruce his spot.

Darcy and Jane are hugging in the background. Muttering hellos. 

Bruce lifts up the rags and inspects the wound. He puts something- it looks like plastic- over it.

“That’ll stop air from getting into the wound, should help with preventing a collapsed lung.”

God, that doesn’t sound good.

“It’s gonna be okay, Tasha, it’ll be fine, we’ve still got to go on that vacation remember? You said Chile. I’m fine with Chile. I’ll drop the Disney World idea, if you’ll just go on that vacation with me.”

She still staring at him, and then her back arches and she’s trying to suck in air.

“Can’t. Breathe,” she gets out.

“Doc!” Clint yells, grabbing her hand and pushing his hand into her hair. 

Bruce removes the thing he put on the wound immediately and she sucks in a breath of air.

“Medical is here,” Steve says.

Clint wipes his cheeks and looks to the doorway. A man and a woman are rushing in with a stretcher.

Steve and Clint lift Natasha up onto it, trying to keep her as level as possible. Bruce keeps pressure on the wound. 

“It’s a chest wound, I tried to seal it, but she couldn’t breathe. I think her lung has collapsed. There’s no exit wound, so the bullet is still in there somewhere, surgery in required immediately.” Bruce rattles this all off as they run to the elevator.

The two nurses squeeze in the gurney, and Clint follows.

“Sir,” the man says, holding up his hand, trying to stop Clint from stepping forward.

“Don’t,” Steve advises him.

“Let him in, Trevor,” the woman says.

Clint steps into the elevator just as the door close with a cheery _ding._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like you all to be aware that writing that last scene was EMOTIONALLY TRAUMATIZING. I don't know why I do this to myself.


	10. SHEILD medical

They’re in the back of a van with Coulson. Clint is smashed between the two gurneys, if they got into a car crash right now it would not end well for him.

He cannot bring himself to care.

Phil wakes up in the middle of the drive. His eyes focus on Clint, and then slide over to Natasha.

“I told you,” she takes a shuddering breath, “not to get shot.” She finishes weakly, her fingers fluttering half heartedly against Clint’s palm.

He clutches tighter. 

“You don’t look like you did so well yourself,” he answers.

“We’re going to give you morphine,” Trevor tell Natasha.

Natasha’s eyes widen and she, Phil and Clint all shout, “NO!” at the same time.

Trevor flinches and the woman, who is still nameless, raises her eyebrows.

“She’ll kill you if she wakes up doped,” Clint explains to them. “It’s a childhood trauma thing.”

Trevor just puts the morphine down.

Clint knows exactly what will happen if she wakes up drugged, he was the one that had to take her down that first time. . .

She hadn’t killed anyone, thankfully, just knocked out about five SHEILD agents and placed three more in the hospital.

Clint tracked her down to the lobby, where she was making her way to the doors.

He stepped in front of her. She dropped into a fighting stance.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Clint said, holding his hands out. “We’re just trying to dull the pain.”

“Everything feels fuzzy,” she answered. “Like I’m getting a memory.”

She was just a kid, her face young and eighteen at most when he brought her in all those years ago. Eighteen and still had a kill list longer than his, and that was saying something.

“We’re not giving you another memory,” Clint said, advancing towards her.

She didn’t move, didn’t even try to take him down.

He put a hand on her shoulder and she stiffened, reaching out to slam him into the ground for touching her.

But she was drugged, and she may have been a good fighter, but Clint had been a good fighter for longer, and he had her on the ground with his knee digging into her back within a second.

“It’s fine, Nat, we’re not going to hurt you,” he repeated.

She growled, pushing off the floor and reversing their positions in a slick move that he couldn’t even follow.

“My name is Natasha,” she growled in his ear.

“Sure thing, Tash,” he answered, and she shoved off of him, and let him take her back to medical, jerking out of his grip every time he reached for her. Clint had never left her alone in the hospital again.

She’s still staring at him, in the back of this medical van, the way she has been for the last couple of minutes.

“Don’t worry-” heaving gasp- “about me.” Her hand looses it’s grip for a moment and panic shoots through Clint.

Phil laughs. “That’s like asking Tony to go to sleep.”

“It’s like telling Darcy to get off her computer,” Clint answers.

“It’s like asking Bruce to stop being so angsty about being the Hulk all the time.” Phil’s smile is soft.

“It’s like asking Phil to stop doing paperwork.”

“It’s like asking Clint not to go to the archery range,” Coulson answers.

The van stops. 

“We’ve got to go,” the woman says, and the two nurses in the van open the doors and hop out.

Two more nurses appear out of nowhere and help get the stretchers down.

Hawkeye jumps out of van and they start wheeling Coulson to the right, Natasha to the left.

Clint hesitates for half a second. Phil raises his hand in a wave goodbye.

Clint follows after Natasha, his hand shaking just slightly. His fingers are caked with blood. He doesn’t even notice. 

 *   *   *

When Natasha is wheeled out of the building on a gurney, Steve returns to where Loki is laying on the ground. 

The god of Mischief looks beaten, he hasn’t even tried to move. Thor comes in a little while longer and picks up the hammer. 

Loki looks up for a second and then lets his head drop back to the ground with a _thump._

“Going to take me home, dear brother?” He asks.

“I have not decided.”

Loki raises one eyebrow. “How mysterious,” he sighs.

Steve reaches a hand out, “Come on, get up,” he says.

Loki sighs and takes it. “If I must.”

Steve hauls him to his feet with a little effort. When he’s standing Loki reaches down and straightens his shirt. 

“Let’s go, Thor, SHEILD can hold him until you decide,” Steve offers. “Tony and I will take him, you can spend some time with Jane. We’ll call you if we need you.”

Thor nods and claps Steve on the back, “Thank you, shield brother,” he says.

Steve nods and raises his hand to activate his comm. “Tony, get in here, would you? We’re taking Loki to SHEILD. Just... fly along side our car or something.”

Steve is tired, and worried sick about Natasha. If she dies... everything will fall apart. He’s never realized exactly how integral every part of the team is until just now.

He takes Loki’s arm and pulls him out of the apartment, passing Darcy, Jane and Thor on the way out.

Darcy glares at Loki as he passes. Jane doesn’t even spare a glance for him, she’s too busy wrapping her arms around Thor.

Nothing goes wrong as they take Loki to SHEILD headquarters which is a miracle in and of itself.

Tony zips along next to the car, occasionally shooting up into the sky, which makes Steve nervous, not that he would ever say anything about that.

“The man out of time, how are you adjusting?” Loki asks. 

Steve narrows his eyes at the sarcasm. “Like you care,” he answers. He wipes his hands on his legs.

“You seem nervous,” Loki comments.

“I don’t like it when my people get shot,” Steve answers.

“Your people,” Loki muses. “Strange how you have taken ownership so quickly.” He looks out the window. “Strange how you take ownership at all.”

Steve stares at him.

Loki looks out of place in civilian clothes, and he looks very different when he’s lacking his signature smirk. 

The van slows to a stop, and Steve jumps out, pulling Loki along with him. The god doesn’t say anything.

 *   *   *

Tony sees Jane at the hospital, after he’s gotten out of his armor and Loki is safely in a cell that has several layers of security.

She’s sitting next to Darcy, with Thor on her other side.

Tony holds his hand out and she takes it, pulling herself up to give him a hug. He was just going for a handshake, but that’s okay.

“I heard you haven’t slept in three days because you were finding me,” she says.

He shrugs. “I’ve gone longer for less,” he answers.

She sits back down, collapsing against Thor.

The god puts an arm around her, grinning happily. 

Tony needs to get out of this room fast, because Thor, when he’s happy, is _genuinely_ happy. And it’s about the most disgusting thing that Tony has ever seen.

“I like it,” Jane says, frowning up at him.

“Yes, you said that out loud,” Darcy answers him before he can even ask the question. “Also,” she stands up, “it’s been a pleasure working for you, Mr. Stark, but I quit. Officially.”

“What?” Tony looks to Jane for help, but the woman just shrugs.

“I’m done, I need to do something else for a job, one that gets me out of the tower and lets me interact with people who’s hide and seek games don’t end up with me being pushed off the top of a skyscraper. Not that I don’t love you guys,” Darcy says quickly, “but I need normal friends too.”

“Fine,” Tony sniffs. “If you really want to leave me on my own, so be it.”

“I can move out, if you prefer,” Darcy offers.

“Oh god no!” Tony almost shouts, and then calms down. “I mean, who would cook us breakfast if you moved out, Darcy? We would all starve in the mornings, or be stuck on an endless loop of Steve’s pancakes, which, admittedly are divine, but we need some variety in there.”

Darcy’s laughing at him. “Okay, fine.”

“Besides, you’d be moving in with Bruce soon enough anyways, right?”

Darcy makes a swipe at him, but he dodges out of the way soon enough.

“I’m going to go check on our patients now,” Tony says. “And honestly, Coulson needs to stop being injured.” And, God, why did Natasha have to get shot in the damn chest, right near her heart. If she dies, Clint will be inconsolable. Tony can practically see him turning dark right now, fighting against the system that got his partner killed. Damn, if Natasha dies, they’ll _all_ be inconsolable.

Tony turns and walks down the hallway, to where Clint is standing outside the doors to surgery.

He’s leaning against the wall for support, and he’s staring straight ahead.

Tony makes a show of looking over to the patch of wall that the archer is staring at and then looking at Clint, “Whatcha looking at?”

Clint doesn’t answer, but his eyes do flick over to Tony, which he considers a good sign.

“How’s Natasha?” Tony asks, more subdued this time.

“Not good,” is Clint’s response, and there’s the tiniest crack in his facade as he says it before it crumbles completely. His face falls and he grabs fistfuls of his hair like ripping it out by the roots would make him feel better. “It’s not good, Tony, I don’t know what I’d do if she died.”

Tony is way out of his depth here. He has absolutely no idea what the hell to say or how to comfort Clint. 

Steve appears at the end of the hall, dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt, probably just pulled on over his suit.

 _HELP ME,_ Tony mouths over Clint’s shoulder, and Steve walks over.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Tony mutters as Steve approaches.

Clint shakes his head.

“How is she?” Steve asks.

“She’s in surgery still,” Tony says, jerking his thumb towards the doors.

Steve nods, and then looks over at Clint, who running a hand over his face. “Natasha will pull through,” Steve says. “No way she won’t, she’s too much of a fighter.”

“She’s got to,” Tony agrees, “otherwise she can’t kick my ass for hiding her favorite knife.”

“She blamed me for that,” Clint says, a watery smile tugging at his lips.

“Sorry, probably got you kicked out of bed,” Tony grins. 

Clint sniffs and runs a hand underneath his nose. 

A nurse pushes through the doors, looking for Clint. “Can we talk over here,” she asks, pointing to the other side of the hallway.

“Oh, thank God, I was running out of encouraging things to say,” Tony mutters to Steve.

Steve looks down at Tony, his expression pinched and worried. “If Natasha dies...”

Tony holds up a hand, cutting off his words. “She is _not_ going to die, okay?” he hisses. “She _cannot_ die.”

He can feel Steve’s eyes on him as he stalks off.

 *   *   *

Steve walks out of SHEILD headquarters and down the street. His hands are pushed into his pockets and his feet are taking him where he wants to go. It’a Saturday, and he knows Meg is working today, she’d mentioned it at dinner. 

He arrives at the shop with a forlorn look on his face which tips her off.

Meg says a few things to her boss, taking off her apron as she goes and then walks up to Steve and throws her arms around his neck. He overcomes his surprise and slides his arms around her waist and holds on tight.

“What happened?” she asks quietly.

“Natasha and Phil got shot. Phil is fine, stable, but Natasha... “Steve’s voice breaks. “She might not make it.”

Meg tugs at his hand, “Let’s go for a walk.”

They end up sitting against a tree in Central Park. “I think it was a bad idea to live together,” Steve says quietly, his eyes fixed on Stark Tower that rises above the tree line. “Now we’re not just a team, we’re a family, and if one of us dies... I just don't know how we’re supposed to get past that.”

“I disagree,” Meg says firmly. “you were supposed to live together. You’re all superheroes and secret agents, the only people you could grow close to were people who could understand that. And from what you’ve told me you all needed a family. Even if something bad happens, you can’t deny that you love them, and you don’t regret it at all.”

Steve reaches over and laces his finger through Meg’s. “Thank you.”

They sit in silence for several more minutes.

“I should be getting back,” Steve whispers.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“Steve shakes his head. “She’s at headquarters. No civilians allowed.” He stands up, wiping his hands off on his jeans. “But thank you.”

Meg nods. “Call me if you need to,” she offers.

Steve smiles. “I will.” They look at each other. “Oh!” He snaps his fingers. “When this is all over, the team wants to meet you. They said they wanted you to come over for dinner.”

“Seriously?”

Steve nods. “Pepper insisted.”

“Pepper Potts?” she squeaks. “The Pepper Potts?”

“Umm, yes?” Steve answers. “She’s really nice, not at all like Tony.” He grins.

“Right,” Meg answers. “As soon as this is all over, dinner with the Avengers. No. Big. Deal.”

Steve is grinning as he leaned over and kisses her softly. She steps into it, making it last longer than it was supposed to. It’s chaste of course, closed mouthed and brief, but she loves it all the same.

They say goodbye then, Steve heading back to his team and Meg heading back to her apartment.

 *   *   *

Steve walks back into SHEILD medical to find Darcy sprawled across the floor at Jane’s feet.

Tony is sitting next to Jane, studying several pieces of paper that has Jane’s cramped writing all over it. Thor is slowly blinking on the other side of Jane, clearly on the verge of sleep.

“You are a genius,” Tony says slowly.

“Someone should record that,” Darcy says, pointing upwards to the ceiling. “He never admits anyone else is a genius.”

“Is it comfortable down there?” Steve asks, leaning over Darcy.

She moves her arm from over her eyes so she can peek at him. “Surprisingly so,” she answers.

“Look at this, Steve,” Tony thrusts one of the papers at Steve.

He squints down at the handwriting and diagrams. “This looks like a coffee maker,” he remarks.

“It is,” Jane confirms, stifling a yawn. “That’s what I worked on while Loki was holding me.”

“You worked on improving a coffee machine,” Steve repeats. “he might have killed you for that.”

Jane shrugs. “He kind of likes me, I don’t think he would have killed me.”

Steve shakes his head, handing the papers back to Tony.

“How’s Natasha?”

Everyone stiffens slightly. Silence spreads over them.

“She is not well,” Thor answers solemnly.

“She’s out of surgery,” Tony says, “But she still hasn’t woken up. Only Clint is allowed in her room.”

Bruce walks up. “Phil is doing well,”  he says. “They’ve bandaged him up pretty well and gave him some more blood to help him out. He’ll be out in a few days and walking in about six weeks.”

“Good. Good,” Steve nods. “What do we do now?” He looks around helplessly at his team.

Tony shrugs. “Now we wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, well, this chapter was a little uneventful, sorry about that, but you know, necessary to build relationships and develop Meg a bit before she meets the crew and of course build up suspense about Natasha. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up by Friday. :)


	11. About Family

 Steve stands next to Jane. Her arms are crossed across her chest and her foot taps against the floor  in impatience. A plane of glass separates them from the god of mischief.

Thor steps into the room, looming over his adopted brother. Loki is sitting on the edge of the bed, perfectly still and his shoulders hunched.

“What happened to him?” Steve asks absently. It’s clear that Loki is not who he once was.

“He’s ... diminished.” Jane says. “I think the loss of the spear’s influence was more detrimental than anyone realized.”

Steve looks over at her questioningly.

She shrugs. “Think how it pulled at Clint, not that he let anyone besides Natasha see his struggles. But I know he still has times when he thinks that the tesseract is controlling his thoughts.”

Steve nods. He remembers those times, when Clint grabs Natasha’s wrist and looks at her pleadingly. She’ll crouch in front of him and murmur comfortingly. He’ll stare at her like if he stops he’ll drown.

“If it was so bad for Clint, then think what it would have been like for Loki,” Jane continues. “The tesseract saturated his brain, took him over completely and to have that removed . . .” Jane abruptly folds her arms again, like she was unaware she’d been gesturing with them. “I’m sorry, I just had a lot of time to think about this while I was designing my coffee machine.”

Steve shakes his head. “Don’t apologize, you’re probably right.” He looks inside the cell again. Loki is looking down at his clasped hands.

“Why have you come to see me?” Loki asks Thor.

“You are still my brother,” Thor answers.

“I don’t wish to be.”

Thor turns away, walking to the other side of the cell.

“Odinson,” Loki says the name like it’s poisonous.

“Our father-” Thor starts.

“He is not my father,” Loki says, shaking his head while he looks at the ground.

“He cared for you as his own son,” Thor says quietly.

“He let me fall into deep space,” Loki answers.

“You chose that.”

“Just as I chose to live in your footsteps, always following, never leading. A frost giant could never beat out the future King of Asgard.”

“So you take the Earth to fill your void?” Thor shakes his head.

“Asgard has rejected me, I’m too tainted to return to Jotunheim, and the rest of the nine realms reject my true self. Earth is the only place left.”

Thor shakes his head. “You do not need to rule them to belong to them.”

“I do not wish to belong to them,” Loki snaps.

“No, you wish them to belong to you.”

“Why can’t they? When the soldier claims each of you as his own, claims you as his family, why can’t the human race belong to me?”

“You have much to learn about family,” Thor answers gravely.

Loki presses his hands to his face.

“I’ll come see you tomorrow.” Thor walks out of the room.

Jane goes to him immediately, placing a hand on his arm. He gives her a half smile and walks out of the room.

Steve sighs, and then rouses himself so that he can go check on Natasha.

 *   *   *

Bruce pauses in the doorway. Coulson looks up from where he’s laying in his hospital bed.

“Hello Bruce,” Coulson waves him in. “Thank you for tending to me,” he gestures vaguely towards his leg.

“Anytime,” Bruce responds, “although I’d prefer it if you didn’t get shot too often.”

Phil smiles. “How’s Natasha?”

“Still sleeping last I checked.” 

“Is it likely that she’ll wake up?” Phil asks. “Honestly, Bruce, tell me.”

Bruce walks over and sits down in one of the plastic chairs. It digs into his tailbone uncomfortably. “Everyday that goes by that she doesn’t wake up makes it less likely that she will.” Coulson looks worried. “Natasha will pull through.” Bruce says uncertainly. “She’s strong.”

Phil settles back into the pillows. “Of course,” he says absently. “She always pulls through.”

They sit in silence for a moment.

“Bruce, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Darcy,” Phil says seriously, assuming his business expression and folding his hands in front of him.

Bruce reddens and sits back in his chair. He wiped his hands on his pants.

“Given that her parents have passed away and she has no one else to do this for her-”

“Are you going to give me the ‘Hurt her and I’ll kill you’ speech?” Bruce asks.

“Well, I can’t kill you obviously, but I can make life very difficult for you,” Phil shrugs.

“I know that I’m much older than her, and she probably deserves someone better than me-”

“No,” Phil interupts. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking that you’re not worthy of her, Bruce. You deserve happiness.”

Bruce looks down shyly.

“And don’t mistake me, I’ll be giving her the same speech as well,” Phil says, smiling.

 *   *   *

Natasha becomes aware all at once. She stays still, stretching her hearing to find out if there is anyone in the room with her. She can’t hear any breathing beyond the beeping of the monitors.

She can smell something, the trace of another human being here. It smells comforting, like home.

She opens her eyes and swings her head around. There’s no one else there. She looks down, yanking the IV out of her arm and sliding out of the hospital bed.

She’s barefoot, wearing a hospital gown. She pulls it over her head, moving to a stack of clothing that’s piled on the only chair in the room. She pulls them on, they fit perfectly. Natasha pauses for half a second to look at the fresh pink scar on her chest. She runs her fingers over it, yes, she remembers getting shot.

She pulls on the boots and laces them up. Then she creeps to the door, peeking out. There’s four people in the hallway. Two agents, two civilians. She has no idea what the two civilians are doing here. 

One is a brown haired woman who is stretched out across a couple of chairs, holding a tablet in her hand and occasionally laughing. Her feet are in the lap of a dark haired man sitting at the end of the chairs. His own tablet is balanced on top of her feet, and he’s concentrating hard on something. A circle of light shines through his T-shirt.

Natasha spends a moment wondering what it is, before deciding that it didn’t matter much. 

The two agents are dressed in typical American government gear. They look fresh faced. 

They are standing on either side of the door. Natasha grins. This is going to be too easy.

 *   *   *

“It gets alright/ to dream at night/ Believe in solid skies and slate blue earth below/ But when you see him, you'll know...”

Tony shifts in his seat slightly and Darcy pulls her feet up to allow him to adjust more comfortably.

Tony is half listening to Darcy sing quietly, but he’s mostly working on his new idea. He’s trying to make a device which will bring Steve’s shield back to him on the rare occasion that he throws it and it doesn’t bounce back to him. There have been one too many incidents when Steve is defenseless, and it always gives Tony a bad feeling.

He reaches up to scratch his nose and then looks back down at his tablet. He sighs, there’s nothing else he can do until he can start building the thing and then tinker with it.

“Darcy, can I ask you a question?” Tony asks. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ring box.

“I hope you’re not proposing to me.”

Tony smirks at her. “Will Pepper like this?” He tosses the box to her. It’s not that he necessarily needs a second opinion, it’s just that he feels like he’s walking into a trap blind with this whole proposal thing. 

Darcy opens it, and peers inside. 

The ring that Tony chose was simple, because he thought that Pepper would appreciate that. It’s a single diamond, not big enough to look disproportionate on her finger, but still large. There are two smaller diamonds on each side of it, set in a white gold band.

Darcy’s eyes are wide as she snaps the box closed and hands it back to Tony. She nods wordlessly.

“Everything about it screams Pepper,” she says.

Tony squints at her. “So, good?”

Darcy nods. “Good. How are you going to propose? Do you need to practice?” She wiggles her eyebrows at him.

He laughs mockingly. “No,” he answers. 

“I still can’t believe you’re actually going to get married,” Darcy says. “Tony Stark, the great womanizer, settling down finally with Pepper Potts, CEO of his company.” She spreads her hand in front of her, indicating a Headline. 

Tony reciprocates in kind. “Mysterious woman tames the heart of the Hulk, is it even possible? Darcy Lewis, a previous unknown has captured the heart of the elusive scientist, Bruce Banner.”

Darcy punches him on the arm. “Seriously, Tony, I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah,” he turns back to his Starkpad, distracted. “You too, you know? I’m glad that Bruce found someone who’ll pull him out of his shit. You’re good for him.”

Darcy holds up her hand. “I can only take so much chick flick moments, and I’ve reached my limit for today.”

“Let’s just never talk about this again.”

“Deal.”

They shake on it.

 *   *   *

Nathan is new. Nathan was hired just last week as security, transferring from the FBI. His new job is to watch the security cameras, which is the easiest job in the world.

He’s lounging back in his chair, about to start eating a burrito when an image catches his eye.

A woman with curly hair is looming up close to a camera in SHEILD medical. Her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, and she wiggles her fingers hello.

“Hello,” he mutters back. She really is beautiful.

Suddenly she gets a wicked grin on her face and all the cameras in that sector go out. 

“Iman?” Nathan calls. The Head of Security walks over. “The camera in medical all just went out all at once.”

He looks up at Iman, who has sighed and is reaching for the walkie talkie at his belt.

“Director Fury, sir, this is Iman. She’s awake.”

“Barton will handle it,” the Director’s clipped voice comes back.

“Sir, Barton is in the Cafeteria.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Shit,” Fury swears.

“Yes,” Iman agrees. “It’s a problem.”

*   *   * 

Clint is pouring himself a much need cup of coffee when his phone rings. He sighs. He has been in Natasha’s room for three days straight now, waiting for her to wake up. He _needs_ coffee, and everything else can just go hang.

But he’s a dutiful SHEILD agent, so he answers. 

“Agent Romanoff has woken up, and she’s taken out the cameras.”

Clint puts down the cup and starts running towards medical. This cannot be good.

“Who’s nearby?” he asks.

“Two agents, stationed outside the door and Mr. Stark and Ms. Lewis are in the corridor, waiting.”

“Tell them to get out,” Clint orders

“Director Fury has already sealed that branch of the building. I don’t know if Mr. Stark or Ms. Lewis have gotten out.”

Clint curses, simply hanging up on the man on the other end and putting on another burst of speed.

He’s there in under five minutes. He really hopes that she didn’t kill anyone.

“Let me through,” he shouts to the guards that have locked the door to medical, and they comply immediately. He barrels through the doors and into the corridor. 

Tony and Darcy are standing against the wall.

He gives them a strange look.

Tony shrugs. “She was on the warpath,” he explains. “We weren’t going to get in the way.”

Clint just moves over to where Natasha is hoisting herself into the vents.

He pulls on her legs, making her crash to the floor again. Off to the side the two SHEILD agents are laying on the ground, but there aren’t any pools of blood, so he figures they’re just unconscious.

Natasha is back on her feet in less than a second, turning around and punching Clint right in the jaw.

He reels backwards, putting his hand to his chin and spitting out, “Jesus, Nat.”

Natasha is pressing herself against the wall, trying to put as much distance between herself and him.

He reaches out to her and she moves away from him in a move that’s almost like a flinch. Clint stares at her.

“Nat, it’s me,” he says. “Do you know where you are?”

She blinks and stares at him. “Clint?” She asks.

He nods. “That’s right, we’re in SHEILD medical. You were shot.”

Her hand goes to her chest, right where the scar is. “Right, saving Jane,” she says. She leans against the wall. “I thought...” she trails off.

Clint has never asked for details about what went on when she was in Russia, what the Red Room consisted of. He’s read her file of course, and so he knows the basics. They brainwashed her, made her what they wanted her to be. 

“It’s fine,” Clint tells her. “You’re okay.”

She frowns at him, and he knows she’s refraining from snapping at him. She hates it when he tells her she’s okay.

“What happened after I got shot?”

“You went into surgery, it went well, but you’ve been in a coma for three days.”

“What day is it?”

“Thursday.”

She nods. “Okay.” She pushes off the wall and sways a little bit. “The adrenaline is gone,” she remarks simply, and crashes into Clint’s shoulder.

He snakes and arm around her waist and holds her upright.

He slides an arm around her waist and helps her sit down in a chair. 

He sits down next to her. “Are you good now?”

“I’m fine, Clint,” she says sharply.

Tony and Darcy leave the room.

She sighs. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped.”

“It’s fine,” he answers, and he puts an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in closer to him.

She stiffens, like she doesn’t want to be held, but then she relaxes against him minutely.

He presses his lips to her hairline and then lets her go back to her original position. 

“Can we go home?” she asks him.

He smiles. “Yeah.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay sorry, I know I was supposed to put this up by Friday, but NaNoWriMo arrived and kicked my butt, so I'm two days late. Also, there is only going to be one more chapter to this story, which is really weird to think about. But there will be another installment to the series, because there's no way in Hell that I'm going to pass up the opportunity to write Tony's wedding.


	12. Dinner and a Show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is it. The last chapter of the installment. I skivved off nanowrimo today to write this, so hopefully you like it. I AM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG. I'M A TERRIBLE PERSON. There will be a sequel to this, so if you want to read the sequel subscribe to the series, not just this story. Okay, here you go!  
> OH AND MY LOVELY ROOMMATE WHO TALKS OVER PLOT AND CHARACTERIZATION WITH ME GOT AN ACCOUNT. So she's now officially posted as the co-writer here.

Meg stands in front of the mirror, adjusting her dress  a little bit. She fluffs her hair while sighing. 

God, what is she thinking? She’s going to meet the _Avengers._ The freaking _Avengers._ The gang of Superheroes that live in the same building like it’s a college frat house and then occasionally go out and save the world, when they’re not busy creating weapons, being spies or scientists or artists. Oh, God, she’s in way over her head. 

Why did she even start dating Steve anyway? This was a terrible idea.

A smile tugs at her lips, because, okay, she knows she’s being crazy. She knows that she would date Steve again in a heartbeat.

Meg turns around when there’s a knock at the door, and she opens the door to find Steve Rogers standing there. He’s wearing a plaid shirt with a skinny tie, which defies all fashion sense but works really well. His jeans are a dark wash and his brown jacket accentuates his broad shoulders.

“Hello,” he says, looking over her. 

Her dress has a round neck, sleeves that go halfway down the tops of her arms and falls just above her knees. It’s a dark blue with small yellow flowers scattered over the fabric. She has a yellow belt around her waist.

“You look beautiful,” he says, leaning down to kiss her hello.

She blushes. “You look good too,” she says. “I like the tie,” she uses it to pull him down for another kiss, because she isn’t very good at denying herself.

Steve shifts in the doorway rather than moving towards the car.

“What’s up?” she asks.

For a second she thinks he’s going to say something like, ‘Maybe we should wait to meet everyone else,’ and she can’t decide whether she would be relieved or hurt by that.

“Are we going steady?” he blurts and then blushes while rubbing at the back of his neck. “I mean, can I introduce you as my girlfriend?”

Meg bites her lip. “I definitely don’t want to date anyone else, and I sure as hell don’t want you going out with anyone else. So, yes.”

Steve smiles. “Okay then.”

*   *   * 

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing!” Tony hisses at Darcy as she swats at him.

He’s invading her personal space again, following her all around the tower. Pepper has taken the job of cleaning up the communal area. It’s a task that involves finding all of the bullets from nerf guns, (why would Tony think it was a good idea to give Thor and Clint nerf guns was a mystery) and trying to make sure Natasha hadn’t stashed any knives in the cushions of the couch. Darcy, on the other hand, was in charge of dinner, since everyone agreed that she was the best cook.

She has a hard time getting dinner ready when Tony’s blocking her from moving around the kitchen.

When he’s blocking her from the sink for the third time she explodes.

“Tony Stark, if you do not get out of the kitchen right now I will personally find all the best ways to torture you and give you a slow painful death. I’m thinking caffeine withdrawal and dying from starvation or maybe freezing to death.”

Tony frowns at her. “You’re a bit touchy today,” he informs her. “Maybe you need a back rub, I could help with that.”

“No you won’t.” Bruce says from the stools.

Darcy points her spatula at Bruce in emphatic agreement. “Now get out of the kitchen or I will have to end you.”

“But I need your help,” Tony whines.

“You ask, Tony! That’s it, you just ask!” Darcy closes her eyes, physically restraining herself from beating him with kitchen utensils.

“But how? And when? And what exactly do I say that will make her want to say yes.”

“She already wants to say yes, you idiot.” Darcy is pinching the bridge of her nose while she stands over the stove. “She is in love with you. Or haven’t you noticed from the way she sticks around.”

“Okay, yes, but she wants a romantic proposal,” Tony pulled himself up onto the counter, swinging his legs like an overgrown child.

Darcy looks over at Bruce, trying to convey all of her irritation in one glance.

“How am I supposed to do a romantic proposal, Darcy?”

“Why are you even talking to me about this? Don’t you have anyone else to talk to about this?”

Tony shifts on the counter awkwardly. 

Darcy immediately feels horrible. He doesn’t have anyone else to talk to about this, the Avengers are pretty much his only friends and family.

“Tony,” Darcy says firmly and stands in front of him. “Just tell her you love her and that you want to spend the rest of your life with her and be done with it.”

“But it’s not that simple,” Tony whines.

“Tony,” Pepper sticks her head in the room, “I need your help with something.”

“Coming, dear,” Tony says with a false smile and hopping off the counter immediately.

Bruce walks around the counter and slides his arms around Darcy’s waist, hugging her from behind. 

“I’m going to kill him,” she mutters.

Bruce kisses her neck. She scowls at him. “That’s unfair.”

“What do you need help with?” he asks, and she brightens immediately.

*   *   * 

“Tash, honestly, you really shouldn’t be walking that much. If you start right now you’ll be exhausted for the rest of the night.”

Natasha scowls at Clint dramatically, and heaves herself off the couch and starts to walk to the elevators.

“He’s right,” Coulson says from where he’s sitting on the couch. He’s reading something, idly turning the page and watching Natasha out of the corner of his eye.

“I am _not_ being wheeled around all night,” Natasha spits.

“Did we suggest that?” Phil asks. “I don’t think the wheelchair was ever mentioned.”

As soon as she had gotten out of the hospital she had shoved the wheelchair in the hallway closet violently, and then slid down the wall, exhausted.

“I hate recovering,” she mutters as she leans against Clint. Even now, just standing she needs help. She hates this so much. 

“I know,” Clint answers quietly. “Come on, I’ll give you a piggy back ride up, then you’re not in a wheelchair or being carried around like a damsel in distress.”

Natasha nods. “Fine.”

He slings her onto his back like she weighs nothing and she locks her legs around his waist.

Clint walks towards the elevator. 

Coulson marks his spot in his book carefully. “Just get married already,” he whispers and gets up to follow them to dinner.

 *   *   *

The elevator dings and Steve steps out. Meg follows close behind him, and pushes her hair out of her face uneasily.

The scene that meets her eyes is something which she never ever expected to see in her life. 

For one, the Black Widow- her name is Natasha, Meg reminds herself- is hanging onto Hawkeye’s- Clint’s- back, and he’s giving her a piggy back ride across the living room into the rec room.

Pepper Potts- _Pepper Potts-_ is standing in the middle of the living room with what looks like a glove in her hand. Tony is sprawled across the couch answering her calmly.

“You cannot just leave your gauntlets around, Tony!”

“And what if an evil Norse god gets in and I’m defenseless, hmm? What then?” He grins up at her lazily.

“You do realize that you have five other superheroes, one SHEILD agent and a taser happy Darcy living here right? You’ll be fine.”

“Steve!” Tony exclaims and hops up off the couch, brushing past Pepper who is shaking her head at him.

“This is Meg,” Steve says, “Meg, this is Tony, and Pepper.”

“I know who they are,” Meg says smiling, and holding her hand out to shake Tony’s hand.

“Not bad, Steve, not bad,” Tony says, looking her up and down.

Meg raises one eyebrow.

“Just slap him,” Pepper says. “That’s what I do when I get annoyed.” She holds her hand out to Meg. “It’s very nice to meet you, we’ve heard great things about you.”

Meg looks up at Steve, who is blushing a nice tomato red now. 

“I’ve heard good things about you too,” she says. 

“Come on,” Pepper answers. “Let’s all get to the kitchen.” She places the gauntlet on a little table as they walk through and archway. They emerge into a very large room. On the left is the rec room, with a large T.V., several couches and pillows, the archway opens directly into the dining room, which has a long table. To the right is the kitchen, which Meg has to admit is gorgeous. Stainless steel appliances, granite countertops and tile flooring. 

A brown haired girl is standing at the stove, manning what looks to be four separate pans of pancakes at once, alternating from one to another and flipping as needed. Meg is fairly sure that this is Darcy.

A very tall man with blonde hair who Meg recognizes as Thor is standing next to the toaster, pulling out hot pop tarts and alternating between placing them on a plate and shoving them in his mouth.

A bushy haired man, Bruce Banner, is pulling bacon out of the microwave and checking to make sure it’s done. 

“Tony,” Darcy calls. “You’re in charge of the coffee, Pepper, you’re in charge of the tea, Clint!” The archer pokes his head up from the rec room. “Get some milk onto the table,” she commands.

He mockingly salutes her as he walks over.

“Phil, set the table please,” Darcy says, and a quiet man who was sitting at the table stands up, clearing his papers off of it and following the order without question.

“Looks like she runs the place,” Meg comments, taking a seat at the counter which separates the kitchen from the dining room.

“Of course I do,” Darcy says, flashing a grin at her. “Steve,” she holds out another spatula. “Hash browns please?”

Steve complies immediately. 

“Steve makes the best hash browns out of all of us,” Darcy tells Meg. “And we’re having breakfast for dinner, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I had worked that one out for myself actually,” Meg answers with a smile. “Anything you want me to do?” 

“You could set out the ketchup, syrup and butter if you want. Oh, and peanut butter because Clint likes peanut butter on his pancakes.”

“And jam!” Natasha calls from the couch in the rec room.

“Oh, yes, Natasha likes blackberry jam,” Darcy says.

Meg hops off the stool and opens the fridge, rooting around for some of the items. 

Pepper comes up behind her and shows her where the things are. 

“Thank you,” she says sincerely, “I don’t know how you find anything in here.” She closes the door that shuts the massive fridge and starts to carry things over to the table.

“Well, you just kind of get used to it,” Pepper says. “It’s really weird, suddenly adjusting to so many different people living in the same place, but it works too.”

“We settle our differences in the training room that’s why,” Steve says, leaning over Meg to put the hash browns on the table. “It’s how I got Clint to promise to vaccum the living room for a month.”

“Hey!” Clint yells. “That was an unfair match, I still demand a rematch.”

“It was fair, Clint, you’re just slow,” Natasha yells back. 

He scowls at her from across the room.

Darcy is in the kitchen still, directing everyone towards the table. “Bruce, darling, take the pancakes,” she says, handing him two heaping plates. “Thor, that is enough pop tarts.” She leads the god away from the toaster. He manages to look like a kicked puppy dog when she denies him the pleasure of toasting pop tarts any longer. “Phil, help Natasha to the table,” Darcy commands.

(“I can do it myself, Coulson, stop hovering, you are not my mother.” “Natasha.” “ _Fine._ ”)

Everyone sits at the table with a flurry of activity. 

Steve positions himself next to Meg, but everyone else seems to be in a random order.

Steve reaches for her hand, and Clint, who is on her other side grabs her other hand. 

They’re a haphazard oval of limbs now, all connected and Tony, who is sitting at the head of the table, bows his head.

Meg is surprised that he’s religious, she wouldn’t have expected it. 

“Fury, we know you’re listening, go screw yourself,” he says.

“Amen,” the rest of the table says and then reaches over each other to start eating.

*   *   * 

The dinner is not a disaster. It could be better, half way through Clint starts flicking eggs into Natasha’s drink, which makes her throw a knife at him. He ducks quickly enough and it flies over him harmlessly. 

Meg cringes into Steve’s side when that happens, and he puts an arm around her comfortingly. 

Maria Hill shows up halfway through, yelling for Coulson because he hasn’t completed his paperwork on the Greenland incident yet. He says a few things to her and then she sits down next to him and stays for the rest of dinner. 

“You have to be prepared for anything when you’re dating an Avenger,” Darcy says, waving her fork at Meg. “Trust me, I know.”

“She’s referring to when we got kidnapped,” Clint says.

“Are you still complaining about that?” Tony calls from the end of the table. 

“I got kidnapped, Tony. Of course I’m complaining about that, seriously.” Darcy stabs her next bite of pancake.

“Well, maybe you should break up with Bruce then,” Natasha suggest innocently.

Darcy gasps. “Never!” she says dramatically and turns to kiss him on the cheek. He blushes a deep red.

Meg slides a hand over Steve’s knee as she leans backwards in her seat. She smiles at him as he settles an arm over the back of her chair. 

“They’re a little crazy,” he says fondly looking around at them. “But I love them.”

Meg scoots closer to him and leans her head on his shoulder.

Thor is sitting on the right, stuffing pop tarts into his mouth. At that moment, a blond woman shows up, with two pencils stuck in her hair and makeup smeared under her eyes.

“That’s Jane,” Steve says.

“Thor, darling,” Jane says, “How many of those have you eaten so far?” 

“I don’t know,” he frowns down at his plate.

“I think it’s time to stop,” she says kindly. “You know what happened last time you ate too many pop tarts.”

Thor leans over and kisses her. She sits down next to him. “I’m hungry,” she says, and looks at the table like the food is too far away.

“I’ll make you a plate!” Thor exclaims, and the next couple of minutes are spent passing plates of food down to Thor as he heaps food in front of Jane. She’s smiling fondly at him the entire time, occasionally placing a hand on his back.

Meg looks down at the other end of the table and finds Tony staring at them. 

He looks away hurriedly when she catches him and strikes up a conversation with Natasha.

Eventually everyone is done eating and Jane hasn’t been able to make a dent in the food that Thor had placed in front of her. 

They migrate to the living room slowly, a couple of people making a half hearted attempt at cleaning up before abandoning the idea altogether. They’re in a comfortable state, each talking about different things and invading each other’s personal space.

“I think I’ve figured out the perfect way to make your shield come back to you,” Tony is telling Steve.

“When are my new arrows coming, hmm?” Clint mocks as he runs by with Natasha on his back.

“Give it time, Barton,” Tony yells. “Steve’s defensive is more important than your offensive.”

“Well, if I had better offensive then Steve wouldn’t need better defense,” Clint says back.

“Well, I like Steve better,” Tony says.

Meg laughs. “You all sound like third graders.”

“They have that intelligence level,” Coulson says as he walks past. He ducks Tony’s swing at him and collapses on the couch.

“But how are you going to do that without making the element unstable?” Hill is asking Bruce.

Bruce launches into a long diatribe on isotopes.

Maria waves her hands. “On second thought, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Natasha is sitting on the couch. “Clint,” she whines, “Clint, I need to do something.”

He sits down on the floor right in front of her and leans back against the chair. He reaches up and takes her hand, pulling it over his shoulder and holding it there. They look like such a normal couple that Meg has a hard time believing that they kill aliens for a living.

Natasha doesn’t say anything else but she does flick the back of Clint’s head a couple of times.

They sit there in a comfortable haze of conversation.

Eventually Meg gets up to get a cup of water and Tony follows her into the kitchen.

She turns around from the sink to find the billionaire standing less than two feet away from her.

“Can I help you?” she asks.

“Listen,” he starts without preamble. “Steve’s our team captain okay, but he’s more than that, if anything happens to him this entire team will fall apart. So don’t break his heart.”

“I wasn’t actually planning on it,” Meg says. “I think I would be buried in a ditch before the day was out if I attempted it.”

“Damn straight,” Tony agrees. “But don’t worry, I’d ask Natasha to do it quick.”

“Thank you, that’s comforting,” Meg says.

“Now, you’ll want to be in the living room for this next part of the night I think,” Tony says with a deep breath and he steps back, giving Meg room to breathe.

“Why, what’s happening?” she asks curiously.

“Well, I’m supposed to be proposing to Pepper tonight, that’s the plan anyway.” He slips a hand into his pocket. “Oh God, I don’t think I can do this, I mean seriously, committing to her is one thing, no problem, I’ve already accepted the fact that I can’t live without her, fine. But admitting my feelings in front of an audience? Having to say them out loud? That is so against the code of everything I stand for. I need a favor, push me into the room.”

He says it all very fast, Meg barely follows the words that are coming out of his mouth.

“Seriously?” She asks. “You want me to push you?” 

“I think you’ll find that I am almost never considered as an actual adult, so while I know that asking you to push me into the room seems like I’m five-”

“It does, actually,” she agrees.

“I really need you to do it anyway.”

She rolls her eyes. “On three, one-” she pushes him.

“Cheater,” he hisses back and she walks in behind him.

“Tony has an announcement,” she says loudly and then slides onto the couch next to Steve again.

“What’s going on?” he whispers to her.

“Watch,” is her only response. 

“I don’t, that’s a lie,” he says, but Darcy throws a pillow at him. He glares at her. “Okay, fine!” He takes a deep breath and turns to Pepper. “Pepper, I love you, okay? I love you, I mean, goddammit, you drink tea instead of coffee and you like jalapeños in your salad. I mean, who actually likes jalapeños in their salad? And I _still_ love you. And it drives me crazy when you wake up at four in the morning just to get a head start on paperwork, because no one should ever have to wake up that early to do paperwork. But I want to be the one that’s going to pull you back into bed in the mornings and convince you that it’s a good idea to ignore work and go to Venice instead.” He gets down on one knee. “Please marry me, because I don’t know what I’m going to do if you don’t marry me, Pepper.”

She stands up from the couch she’s sitting on and goes to stand in front of him as he pulls out the ring box.

She holds out a shaking hand as he slides the ring on. She looks at it and then her eyes skate to his face. 

It’s silent in the room, the only sound is everyone else breathing. 

“That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me,” Pepper finally says.

“I hope that’s a yes.”

“Of course it’s a yes,” she says with a grin and tears in her eyes.

He stands up and slides his arms around her waist and she hugs him back. Darcy wipes a couple of tears from her face and Natasha is wearing a soft smile.

Steve presses his lips to Meg’s temple and she leans into him.

*   *   * 

Later, once Tony and Pepper have disappeared and Thor has had to carry Jane to bed because she fell asleep on him, Meg walks up to Darcy.

Darcy watches her approach from where she is laid out on the couch on her stomach and thinks that Meg will be good for Steve, he needs someone nice.

Meg sits down on the carpet right in front of Darcy’s face and looks at her carefully. 

“I’m dating an Avenger,” she says clearly.

Darcy’s heart starts pounding, and she squints at Meg. “I like your shoelaces,” she says.

“Thank you, I stole them from the president.”

Darcy grins. “What’s your URL?”

“mast-hemmed-manhattan” she answers. “I thought it was you, from your thumbnail, and then you just talk like you’re from tumblr. Thank goodness otherwise I would have had to pretend to have a panic attack about dating an avenger to cover up your URL.” Meg grins.

“Oh, god, tell me you haven’t read my fanfiction,” Darcy moans.

“Of course I have, interesting pairings too,” Meg says. “Although, I think now that I’ve met you all I don’t think I’ll be able to read anymore Avenger’s fanfiction. It would be too weird.”

Darcy laughs. “I write it,” she says, “And there are others, I won’t mention who, but there are definitely those who live in this tower who read it.”

“Who?” Meg asks, “Now I’m incredibly curious.”

Darcy just raises her eyebrows. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out if you stick around for any amount of time.”

“I plan to,” she promises.

 *   *   *

Clint leaves Natasha to Coulson, who’s better at dealing with her when she’s injured anyway and seeks out Darcy.

“I need to talk to you,” he says.

“Help me with this dishes then,” she commands, where she’s standing at the sink and scrubbing viciously at a pan.

“Why are you even cleaning? You’re the one who made dinner.”

“Because no one else has done it, and I cannot stand to have a dirty kitchen.”

“Where did Bruce go?”

“Bed, he had a headache and Steve is taking Meg home, so he’s not going to do it, and everyone else is,” she waves her hand, “well, fonduing to use Steve’s word.”

“I hope not,” Clint answers. “I think I’d be a little irritated if Natasha and Phil were having sex right now.”

Darcy laughs. “Sorry,” she said. “I just meant the engaged couple and then Thor and Jane.”

“They’re sleeping,” Clint points out.

“That’s what you think. You’ve never shared an apartment with them.”

Clint grimaces. “I guess so,” he answers. He places his hands on her shoulders. “Go sit down,” he commands her, and he takes her spot at the sink.

She sits down gratefully. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Right,” he turns to look at her. “I was just wondering if you wrote fanfiction.”

Darcy is instantly on guard. “Why?” 

“I was thinking that it would be entertaining to write our story, I mean what actually happened in Greenland and everything, and then put it up, just to see how many hits it would get.”

Darcy starts to grin slightly. “Am I allowed creative liberties?” she asks.

“No, we’ve got to make it as real as we can, just to see how many people like it you know. I’m curious to see how many people would actually like to see our real lives.”

Darcy taps her fingers on the tabletop. “We’d have to start with Coulson not really being dead,” she says.

“And then all of us moving in, and of course we’d have to establish the relationships,” Clint says. “Really you would be writing it, I’d just be sort of helping, I can’t write at all,” he confesses.

“As long as you proofread for me, I’ll do the writing,” Darcy says.

“Deal,” Clint answers.

“Okay, this is going to be way more fun than it should be,” Darcy says clapping her hands together and pulling a notepad and a pen towards her. Clint finishes up the dishes while she starts to write frantically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, yes, Darcy (imdatinganavenger.tumblr.com) and Meg's (mast-hemmed-manhattan.tumblr.com) actually do exist.


End file.
